


Hale Hath No Fury Enterprises

by Nival_Vixen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Asshole Peter, Awesome Laura Hale, Awkwardness, BAMF Allison, Businessman Derek, Crazy Kate, Creeper Peter, Derek Hale & Isaac Lahey Friendship, Derek Likes Stiles, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Evil Kate Argent, F/M, Geek Love, Human Derek Hale, Kate is psycho, Knitting, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Manipulative Peter, Nerd Derek Hale, Nerd Stiles, Nerdiness, Poor Stiles, Rich Derek, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Socially Awkward Derek, Stiles Likes Derek, Stiles Stilinski Wants Sex, Work In Progress, grad student Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's a billionaire with anxiety and a complete inability to be socially adept in any way, shape, or form (just ask Laura). He only agrees to the dating service because Laura's nagging's worn him down, but then he sees Stiles' video response and agrees to go on a date with him.</p><p>Stiles just wants to go on a date (it's been forever and a day since his last one), and he has a thing for this guy's eyes/smile/everything, so he replies to the somewhat personal questions via video. He's surprised that he's asked on a date, but won't turn it down, even if he's just spent the last of his money on clothes to impress said date and probably won't be able to afford dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First date

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this Tumblr post](http://nivalvixen.tumblr.com/post/83884870698/himygotruesuperwholock-x-butfareforward) because I saw the thing and had to have the thing so I wrote the thing

Derek's eyes are killing him by the time the twentieth video is over, and he wants nothing more than to give up on this ridiculous endeavour. It's not his fault he's not exactly  _social_  (in any way, shape or form, according to Laura). Derek actually agrees with her on this which is probably why her nagging finally wore him down enough to finally agree to this dating service, even if he's regretting it now. He watches the first minute of the next video and immediately skips it - anyone who favours cats over dogs is insane in his opinion. He steels himself as he presses play for the next video. This is the last one, he'll tell Laura he tried, and he's just going to die a lonely billionaire. It worked for... uh, he'd have to find out who it worked for and get back to her on that.  _Maybe she'd stop hassling him if he wrote up a full essay on why he shouldn't have to date and was perfectly fine on his own?_

A loud laugh from the video pulls him out of his thoughts, and Derek realises it's been playing for a good three minutes and he hasn't heard a word. That laugh is nice though, and Derek feels kind of bad for the guy that he didn't pay attention (even though it's not a live video, whatever) so he restarts it. And for the next six and a half minutes (he's sure there's more to the video, because it cuts out mid-laugh at the end), Derek is entirely surprised at how much he enjoys listening to this cute guy talk. Derek has a thing about knowing whether a person's lying or not, and he can tell that this guy  _Stiles_  answers all of the questions honestly, even though some of them are way too personal (Derek  _knew_  he shouldn't have let Laura choose the questions). There's a tonne more videos to go through, but Derek doesn't bother looking at them. He's found the only person interesting enough to hold his attention through the entirety of these damn videos, and he wants to see if the same will happen on an actual date.

...

Stiles has a date.  _An actual date_! He didn't think the dating site would actually work out with getting him a date, let alone one with that cute guy with the green and a billion-other-colours-in-his-eyes eyes. Okay, he said eyes attracted him in the video answers, but Derek's smile makes his heart skip a beat too, and Stiles can't wait. He scrolls through the rest of the date invitation thing, committing it all to memory so he can tell Scott and Lydia and Jackson (basically, anyone that will listen), because he, for the first time in  _forever_ , is going on an actual date this Friday night.

He's never heard of the restaurant before, but after a quick Google search, he discovers it's hell fucking fancy, and Stiles isn't sure that anything he owns will be allowed through the door. An emergency call to Lydia ends up becoming a six-hour stint at the mall and Stiles flops onto his bed afterwards, his feet pulsing in pain and his bank account creeping towards the minuses.

 _Shit, he should have left money for the dinner. Who's meant to pay for these sorts of things? The dater or the datee?_  And he's not even sure which one he is, since he replied to Derek's ad.  _Crap_. He might be able to scrounge up  _maybe_  a hundred dollars from his usual hiding spots around his apartment. He gets up to find his money (okay, he kind of falls off his bed, but he's standing a moment later, and it's not the first time or last he's fallen out of bed), and after an hour of searching (and getting distracted by the Batman comic book he found under his bed), Stiles reckons he has enough for a decent meal. Then, because his feet feel like they're actually trying to kill him now, Stiles makes his way back to bed and falls promptly to sleep.

...

Friday night arrived in no time at all, and Derek's surprised to discover that he's nervous. Laura even commented on his uncharacteristic nerves, and that makes him even more nervous, which in turn makes her tease him even more. Derek left early just to escape her, even though Laura's parting words of 'I've seen his video; he's just adorable!' makes him want to sideswipe her car on the way out. Sisters are horrible, older ones especially so.

Derek's greeted at the door warmly by Boyd - Derek owns the restaurant, but it's nice to be seen as more than just an employer - and he waits at the bar for Stiles to arrive, his eyes seemingly fixed to the restaurant's entrance. He's almost an hour early, and there are others in the bar who think it's all right to proposition him simply because he's alone. One woman in particular, who introduced herself as Kate, looked ready to eat him just to get to his wallet (he saw her cataloguing his expensive watch, cufflinks, and suit as she unsuccessfully tried to draw a conversation out of him). Derek ended up getting security to get her the hell away from him because she refused to take a hint, and to say that she got a little crazed as she was escorted away from him would be an understatement.

Stiles arrived on the tail end of that, his eyes wide as he saw Kate almost being physically dragged out by Boyd. Then he saw Derek at the bar and headed over, tugging on his tie nervously. Stiles said hello and smiled so brightly that Derek just stood there and blinked at him stupidly.

"Uh, Derek? You are Derek, right?" Stiles asked nervously, hoping this wasn't some elaborate plan to embarrass him, because he could  _so_  do that without anyone else's help.

"Yes. You're Stiles."

It comes out more as a statement than a question, but Stiles figured that Derek was nervous and just nodded in response. Derek seemed to relax a bit, and Stiles grins a little, still feeling underdressed in this place, even though he's wearing his brand new suit.

"So, this place is pretty fancy, huh? I've never been here before, have you?" Stiles asked as they headed to the restaurant section.

"You mean... you don't know who I am?" Derek asked, and immediately berates himself because that's the most narcissistic thing he's said in a while and just confirms his belief that he should never be allowed to leave the house.

"Uh, DerekLH87 from the dating service?" Stiles replied, looking around like he expected cameras to come out and announce he'd been Punk'd.

"Derek Hale..."

" _You're_  Derek Hale, entrepreneur and owner of  _Hale Hath No Fury Enterprises_?  Seriously? I... Oh, shit. You  **own**  this place, don't you? Of course you do, dumb question. Why... how..." Stiles couldn't get his words out and just kind of  _flailed_  at Derek and fell silent.

"Hey, Batman," Erica said, grinning at them.

Derek frowned at her - _did she know Stiles? Why hadn't she introduced Stiles to him before now?_ \- but then he saw that Stiles was looking at her in confusion as well.

"Uh, the Batman clip on your tie?" Erica added, looking between them. Then she remembered her job, and looked at the bookings listed. "Do you have a table booked, Derek?"

"Laura should've booked it," he said, cheeks reddened. He hated making phone calls. Or taking phone calls. Or anything related to not texting on his phone.

"Ah yeah, there you are. Right this way," Erica said, grinning broadly as she led them to a table at the back.

Not too far from the bathrooms, not right next to the kitchen, and not in the middle of a lot of people. Derek wouldn't be able to handle that. Stiles was quiet, and while he didn't know him, Derek had seen how animated his video was and doubted this silence was normal for the other man. He thanked Erica as she produced their menus and left them in peace.

Derek felt the need to explain because he felt like shit and wasn't entirely sure why. "I... I'm not good in social situations. Or any situations, really. Especially if there are a lot of people around. That's why I agreed to let my sister sign me up for the dating service. She thinks I'll become a lonely old hermit if I don't get out there more," Derek admitted.

"And coming here? Was it to show off or something? I know I don't have a lot of money, but you didn't have to throw that in my face like this," Stiles muttered, his face red as he stared down at his menu and told himself very sternly that he would not cry.

"No! Nothing like that, I promise. I like the food here, honestly, and the whole  _not good in social situations_  extends to places that I don't know well. I wouldn't be able to get through this date if we were somewhere I didn't know."

Stiles seemed pleased at the word  _date_ , and Derek tried to calm his initial response to run away from this entire thing.

"In that case, you should give me a list of places you're familiar with so I know where to take you on our next date," Stiles said with a smile, calming down slowly.

Derek's entire face  _just lit_  up as he smiled, and Stiles kind of jaw-dropped at the sight.

"Okay, I lied. It's smile. Definitely smile," Stiles said breathlessly.

...


	2. The second date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has an anxiety attack on the second date.

Their second date was at one of the restaurants that Derek liked. Stiles was provided with the list and decided on that particular restaurant because it was close to his home, cheap enough for him to pay for the meal (Derek had paid for the first one), but he chose it mainly because it was Chinese food (which was one of Stiles' top five food weaknesses; curly fries would always come first).

They arranged to meet on Saturday evening, and Stiles arrived early to find Derek waiting already. Again. There were a hell of a lot of people in the restaurant, and it didn't take him long to find out why: someone was having a 50th birthday party alongside a couple's 50th anniversary celebration (Stiles couldn't help but laugh at the fact that the birthday boy had been alive for the same amount that the couple had been _married_ ).

Derek looked like he was about to start hyperventilating with the amount of people around, and Stiles made sure that they were seated somewhere as far away from the celebrating masses as possible. Unfortunately, it was also as far away from the door as possible, so when Derek did have a panic attack about ten minutes later, he bolted straight out of the restaurant _through the kitchen_.

Though he was surprised at first, it didn't take long for Stiles to jump up and run after him. It was easy to see which way Derek went, a trail of swearing chefs left behind him. Stiles barely made it through the kitchen without getting stabbed by one of the very pissed off chefs, and when he burst through the staff exit, he saw Derek crouched in the alleyway beside the restaurant's dumpster, shaking and taking in deep shuddering breaths. Stiles made his way over to him slowly, but Derek didn't even seem to register that he was there. Stiles knew the feeling all too well. He kept his movements slow so he wouldn't scare the crap out of Derek and moved to crouch in front of him.

"Hey. You're safe; I promise," Stiles said quietly, Derek's eyes darted to look at his face, and he saw how pale he was. "Want to go for a walk? We can talk if you want? Or not," he added when Derek shook his head adamantly. "Hey, no worries. We can stay right here. Just keep breathing, okay? I'll get you some water," Stiles offered, moving to stand up.

Derek grabbed his wrist, keeping him in place. "Walk. Th-th-that..." he sighed harshly, as if annoyed at himself. "Good to walk."

"Sure. Now, how about that breathing? Do you have a preference for breathing styles?"

"F-f-five se-ven," Derek stammered.

"Awesome. I'll start off, you breathe in time with me?" Stiles offered. Seeing as Derek didn't seem likely to let go of his wrist anytime soon, Stiles gently rubbed the back of his hand to help ease and calm him. "In-two-three-four-five; out-two-three-four-five-six-seven."

Derek kept his eyes glued to Stiles as he continued breathing in and out, slowly starting to match his own breathing to the rhythm that Stiles set. Eventually, colour returned to his cheeks, he was no longer shaking, and he felt well enough to stand. Stiles just smiled and offered a hand to help him up.

"How about I go get our food to go instead? We can eat it where there's not so many people then," Stiles offered.

Derek just nodded, though he was reluctant to let go of Stiles just yet. He was still absentmindedly rubbing circles on Derek's hand and the contact felt nice. Still, he was hungry, and he felt bad enough for ruining their date already, so he let Stiles go. He returned about fifteen minutes later with a plastic bag full of food.

"Uh, you might want to avoid this place for a bit. I was kind of rude to the staff since they gave our table away to some blonde woman. Luckily, they'd already prepared the food and were nice enough to include free egg rolls, but you never know... Sorry about that."

Derek was surprised that Stiles was the one apologising, when it was obviously him that should be doing that. "You don't need to apologise. Sorry for ruining our date. I... I just got overwhelmed."

"You didn't ruin it. I mean, I'll get it if you want to take your food and run, but I was kind of hoping it wouldn't be over yet," Stiles admitted, and even though the light in the alley wasn't bright by anyone's standards, Derek could still see the blush on his cheeks.

He'd never really had anyone other than Laura that wanted to stay with him after an attack. Most people freaked out and ran, leaving him alone as fast as possible. "Oh. Do you... Uh, do you know somewhere nearby that won't have a lot of people?" Derek asked.

He didn't know this area very well, and doubted he'd be able to handle being in his car just yet. He was still focusing on his breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with Stiles' chest, who was still doing the five-seven rhythm, he noticed belatedly.

"There's a park about a block away. It should be empty," Stiles replied, glad that Derek still wanted to spend time with him.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a park bench, Stiles chatting between bites of his dinner while Derek ate his food and listened, replying when he wanted. Stiles didn't push him to talk in return, and it was nice to just sit back and let the words flow over him. It reminded him of the dating service's video honestly, with Stiles capturing his attention with his words, his tone of voice, and even his arm movements (he almost brained Derek with his chopsticks at one point, but Derek probably would've smiled through it).

When they've finished their food and discarded the rubbish in the bin at the end of the bench, Stiles moved his body so he could face Derek properly, and continued talking animatedly. Derek watched more than he listened, and when Stiles finally took a break to breathe, he thanked him quietly.

"You're welcome, Derek," Stiles replied earnestly, as if he _knew_ what he was thanking him for, and that was something that Derek was even more grateful for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more chapters lined up, but unsure as to how many at the moment. I won't be writing every date they have, just the important ones. I'll let you decide what you think's important :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Fifth date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their fifth date starts in Derek's mansion and ends at ... McDonald's?

As a general rule, Derek hated business meetings. Unfortunately, as the owner of his own business that held regular meetings, Derek was required to attend them every month (Laura refused to let him skip - she did the customer service side and dealt with day-to-day operations, so Derek could handle the shareholders and monthly meetings). The meeting he'd been forced into this month was just as bad as the last one, but he at least had Stiles' company via text message to get him through. (If Laura found out that he was texting while in a meeting she'd probably have his head.) Derek was pretty sure it was worth the risk, even if Stiles didn't agree.

_Why are you texting me if you're in a business meeting? Aren't those things important?_

_I just have to sit and nod every now and then. I don't usually do much. Laura makes me attend these so no one can claim I've died and that she's running the business on her own. Even though she already is, really_.

_How is it you're an entrepreneur?_

_I have the ideas and get the ball rolling; Laura does all of the things that involve people_.

 _Right. Still not seeing how you're a billionaire. Pay attention to what's happening in your business, or you'll lose it like Steve Wozniak did with Apple_.

_Isn't he worth $100 million or something?_

_Yes, but Steve Jobs with worth $10.2 billion. His wife's now worth $14 billion. That's a very large amount to risk not paying attention in meetings_.

 _You have no basis on that- how do you know Wozniak didn't pay attention in meetings? Besides, I'm sure he didn't have a pleasantly distracting boyfriend texting him while he was in meetings_.

_Damn straight. Now stop texting me, I'm trying to finish my thesis. :P See you on Friday!_

Derek held back a laugh and slipped his phone back into his pocket, trying not to look or feel too guilty at his inattention for the past ten minutes. No one seemed to notice, and he tuned out as one of the general managers - Rudy, Robert, something like that - started waxing on about profit and loss, _blah, blah, blah_.

A few minutes later there was a prominent cough and Derek returned his attention to the meeting to find everyone watching him and he paled quickly, hands clutching his seat as he fought the urge to run out of the room. _Shit, what had they said? Was he meant to agree to something? Who had even talked? Fuck_. Laura was going to hear about this for certain, and he was going to be so dead. Which would mean missing out on his date with Stiles, and Derek didn't want that to happen. Almost as much as he didn't want to end up like Wozniak, $100 million net worth or not. He took a breath (somewhat shaky, but enough to bring some colour back to his face), and gave an apologetic smile to the table as a whole. 

"Sorry, could you run that by me again?" he asked.

Robert-Rudy-something nodded briefly, and re-explained his idea to reduce staff payments to the minimum wage, stating talking as though it had already been agreed upon rather than something to discuss. Geez, Derek was very glad that he hadn't just blindly agreed to that. Not only would Laura kill him, but Erica would probably get in line to lynch him too. 

"No," he said as forcefully as he could while his heart was still racing. "Staff wages are not going to be reduced. Minimum wage is a crock of shit - " there were a few gasps here, and yep, Laura was definitely hearing about this ( _soon, if the expression on the GM's face was anything to go by_ ) " - and no one working for Hath No Fury will _ever_ be reduced to that. Others may be fine setting their moral standards so low, but I am not." 

Okay, that was probably the longest sentence he'd ever said during a meeting ( ** _sentences_** _actually_ , he realised, his short nails digging into his palms as he tried to control his nerves). And the GM had flushed red in anger and embarrassment at his final words, but Derek was pissed off that the GM had assumed he would agree to minimum fucking wage. In fact, the GM had probably planned on Derek tuning out and just blindly agreeing to whatever was said. He hadn't counted on the fact that Derek had worked _below_ minimum wage before taking his parents' advice and going into business on his own. Working for that awful wage for such long hours had almost killed Derek because he'd been too young and naive to realise that working an 70 hour week for less than $500 wasn't worth his health. He had very strong feelings about the so called cost of living and minimum wage accepted in this country.

By the time the gaping had lessened from the others on the board, Laura had arrived with her assistant and trays of doughnuts in tow. She seemingly ignored the tension in the room (Derek had no idea how, it felt like it was trying to suffocate him), breezing past and moving to stand at the end of the meeting table.

"I think an afternoon tea break is required, don't you?" she asked, smiling at all of them charmingly.

Derek noticed that her eyebrows sharpened on the GM slightly, but it was something that was so small and only a detail that someone who'd lived with Laura for all of her life would recognise. At Laura's insistence, everyone filed out of the meeting room with doughnuts in hand, most talking about coffee as they glanced over their shoulders to look at him oddly. Derek didn't care, he wasn't changing his mind about this - not even if Laura told him to - and while he relaxed slightly when they were the only two in the room (her assistant shooed out with his own doughnut), he still wasn't calm by far. Laura made her way down the meeting room to offer him the box of doughnuts. Derek didn't feel like eating, but he knew that if he refused her now she'd probably eat his favourite one just to spite him. He pulled out a pineapple-glazed doughnut and set it in front of him carefully. 

"So, I saw the video feed. Nice to see you're finally taking an interest in these meetings. You texting your boyfriend for ten minutes probably could've waited though," Laura mused, taking a jam doughnut for herself.

" _Video feed?_ " Derek echoed, suddenly not feeling quite so relaxed anymore as he looked around trying to find out where it was.

"Calm down, I turned it off when I came in here. It's just a way to make sure no one tries to abuse the fact that you don't always pay attention in meetings. How else do you think decisions are made in this place?"

"By me when I get the minutes of the meetings?"

"I make sure that nothing's put into place before you've made a decision, so close enough," she said with a shrug, finishing off her doughnut and reaching for Derek's.

He snatched it up before she could take it and reluctantly took a bite. It tasted too sweet in his mouth and while he usually had a sweet tooth, Derek found that he could barely swallow right now, and it sat as a lump in his throat. Laura raised an eyebrow at him in amusement and looked pointedly at the glass of water in front of him. He glowered briefly but drank anyway.

"Now, let's discuss this. I'm not agreeing to minimum wage because that's something we both know we'll never lower this business to, but maybe a compromise can be reached."

"I was thinking a pay rise," Derek muttered.

"Hmm, Roger will _hate_ that. I'll work out the numbers and let you know what we can do," Laura said with a grin, putting her arm around his shoulder to give him a brief hug. "By the way, I'm proud that you actually stood up for something you believe in. Even if you looked like you were going to cave a minute later," she added.

Derek scowled and nudged her with his elbow. Laura just laughed and hugged him tighter.

"Now, let's get the rest of this meeting over with. I trust you'll pay attention?"

"Yeah, I'll try. It's just so dull," Derek groaned.

"I know. That's why I make you attend: so I don't have to," Laura quipped as she left the meeting room.

Derek shook his head after her, and finished his doughnut when he felt he could handle it. He sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that he'd actually said something in a meeting and one of his employees probably hated him now.

 _If it makes you feel any better, I've been drawing a dragon instead of working on my thesis. It's an awful doodle and I'll probably be kicked out of the doodling school for doodlers by the end of the day. I think I'll call the dragon Sally_.

Derek didn't know what it said about him that Stiles' text **did** make him feel better; it was just so _Stiles_ that he couldn't help but smile. He requested a picture of the dragon when it was done, Stiles replying with 'OK, but don't say I didn't warn you!' a minute later.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket when he heard people returning to the meeting room and tried to look calm and professional. Roger glared at him when he walked back in, but Derek refused to be childish and glare back, so he sat in his seat and tried to pay attention to the last hour of the meeting.

...

Over the next two hours, Derek received no less than ten messages from Stiles, despite his instruction to pay attention to the meeting.

 _I hate my grad supervisor; he's such a fuckbucket_.

 _I swear, the minute I get that damn piece of paper saying I'm Doctor Stilinski, I'm going to refuse to be called anything else for the rest of my life. I'm getting Doctor Stilinski engraved on my fucking tombstone. My friends can call me Doctor Stiles. You can call my Stiles_.

 _I hate everything I've written and I'm so very tempted to delete it all and claim it got eaten by a dragon_.

 _Garlic bread should be declared its own food group_.

_Scott's being annoying. I'm trying to study and he's making noise with a candy wrapper and I'm going to shove it down his throat if he does it again. Why can't wrappers be noiseless?_

_There needs to be a place that people can go when they need quiet. There's a bunch of kids running around the library, and I'm sorely tempted to trip one of the brats. Where the hell are their parents?! This place isn't a babysitting service. Ugh, I sound so old. Call me when you're free so I can feel young again?_

"How does me calling you make you feel young again?" Derek asked as soon as Stiles picked up.

"The fact that you're older than me, obviously. I'd get my dad to ring me, but I always end up telling him to eat healthy and it makes me feel even older. I'm a crotchety old grouch today," he groaned.

"Uh-huh. So where are you now? Sounds pretty quiet."

"In the park, actually. It's quiet enough, but it's too nice outside. I want to be goofing off while I'm in the park, not trying to write my stupid thesis." 

"Your thesis isn't stupid," Derek replied.

Stiles had told him the title of his thesis in technical words and while Derek knew enough psychology terms to get him through a shrink session every year or so, what Stiles had said sounded like a foreign language. Stiles had just laughed at Derek's blank expression and told him that both Scott and his dad looked the exact same way when he'd told them too.

"It could be. There's always great opportunities to make this as ridiculous as possible. Oh, speaking of, I forgot to send the picture. Hold up," Stiles muttered, and Derek heard him pressing buttons on the other end of the call. 

A few seconds later, Derek's phone buzzed against his ear and he looked at the screen to see a picture attachment. Opening it, he saw a picture of a dragon, the name 'Sally' written above it in fancy cursive lettering.

"It looks like a child drew it, I know. I have absolutely zero artistic talent. I can't even draw stick people properly," Stiles groaned.

"It's not bad," Derek said, grinning.

Stiles just snorted in disbelief. "You're just saying that 'cause we make out."

"Hmm, yeah, you're right. Are you still all right to come over tomorrow, or did you need more time for your thesis?" Derek offered.

He wanted to see Stiles because they were planning on a movie night, and Derek couldn't wait to show him his home entertainment system. He thought Stiles would appreciate it, and he'd even made sure to dust and vacuum earlier in the week.

"I'm _definitely_ coming over tomorrow, and ... well, I might bring my laptop in case inspiration strikes, but I'm looking forward to the making out part of the evening more. The company's not half-bad either," Stiles teased.

"Same goes for you, Stilinski," Derek said, grinning. "Are there any specific movies you want to watch?"

"Oh, anything shown in the last twenty years? I feel like I haven't seen a movie since _The Lion King_ came out," he replied, flopping back on the grass.

Derek laughed and Stiles grinned broadly at the sound. He liked hearing Derek laugh, even more so because **he** was the one that elicited the response.

"Honestly, I don't care what we watch. Pretty sure you can choose anything at all and I'd watch it. Wait, you don't own _The Notebook_ , do you?"

"Uh, no. Laura made me watch it once, and that was more than enough for me."

"Oh, thank fuck. Lydia, one of my friends from high school made me watch _The Notebook_ every time she broke up with her boyfriend. And since they broke up nearly every month, I was forced to watch it a lot. I spent most of the time in between their breakups trying to keep those two lovebirds together just so I wouldn't have to suffer through the movie again."

"Sounds like you've been doing psychology work for a long time then," Derek said, grinning.

"Huh. I didn't think of it like that. Do you think _personal relationship advisor for four years of high school_ would look good on my resume?" Stiles joked.

"Depends what job you'd be applying for, I guess."

Stiles laughed, and then sighed heavily. "I don't want to stop talking to you, but..."

"Yeah, I know. We'll see each other tomorrow. You keep studying, okay?" Derek said, offering Stiles an out of the conversation so he wouldn't feel guilty.

"All right. Thanks, Derek. See you soon."

...

Okay, Stiles was pretty certain that he wasn't dreaming. He was awake, this was real, and his boyfriend had his own freaking movie theatre. Inside of his mansion. Stiles' TV didn't get certain channels if the weather was bad, and his boyfriend owned a home entertainment centre that made actual movie theatres look like they'd been made out of cardboard and silly string.

"Do you like it?" Derek asked, looking a bit nervous at Stiles' slack jawed expression.

" _Like_ it? I want to _live_ in here. _Forever_. I want to build a freaking blanket and pillow fort, and never leave this room again. _Do I like it?!_ " Stiles echoed with a scoff.

Derek blushed, so utterly pleased that Stiles liked his small theatre.

"Ah, there you are, Derek! Are you going to introduce me, or do I have to do it myself?" Laura asked, grinning at her brother.

Derek scowled at her in response. Laura had agreed to give him some time before he introduced Stiles to her, but it seemed that her patience had worn out already (it had only been fifteen minutes). She just kept grinning and held a hand out to Stiles.

"I'm Laura, Derek's sister and better half of Hale Hath No Fury. You must be Stiles. Derek's told me a lot about you."

"Uh, yeah, that's me. He has?" Stiles asked in surprise, looking between them curiously.

He didn't know how much Derek could have told her since they were still getting to know each other, and he had the feeling that Laura had already seen his dating video response.

"Well, all the good things. About how handsome you look when..." her words were muffled abruptly, Derek wrapping his hand around Laura's mouth.

"That's enough socialising now, Laura. Leave us alone, _please_."

"No, you should definitely stay. I want to know what Derek's been saying about me," Stiles said with a chuckle.

"Not from her, she twists my words around," Derek muttered, giving Laura a slight shove towards the door.

"He's right; it's better that he tells you himself. Bye Stiles, nice to meet you," Laura called over her shoulder, winking when Derek blushed.

Oh god, Derek was going to _kill_ Laura for doing this to him. She'd spent hours wheedling information out of him, until he'd finally admitted that he liked the way Stiles talked - with his whole body, his eyes lighting up, his arms flailing about when he got excited, his hands ( _oh, he could have spent hours talking about Stiles' hands alone, but he hadn't wanted to traumatise Laura; now, however, he was regretting being so nice_ ). Laura had giggled and laughed at the lovesick expression on his face until Derek scowled and told her to shut up. 

Stiles grinned at Derek. "So, what have you been telling your sister about me?"

"The truth," he replied bashfully, trying to appear nonchalant instead, and shrugged.

"Hmm, _and?_ " Stiles prompted, sitting on one of the large armchairs, resting his chin in his hands as he looked up at Derek with bright eyes. "Come on, big guy, use your words," he said, grinning again.

Derek leaned into Stiles' space slowly, watching as his pupils dilated and he licked his bottom lip, a slight blush on his cheeks. Derek moved so close that his mouth brushed against Stiles' lips softly.

" _No._ "

"W-what?! Oh, that's just crue...mffgh," Stiles said, his words lost as Derek kissed him firmly.

Stiles kissed him back as he wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, pulling him down on top of him, and Derek let himself follow. He pressed his lips to the side of Stiles' mouth, his hands sliding over his ribs and making Stiles writhe beneath his fingertips.

"You're ticklish?" Derek asked, pulling back in time to see Stiles' cheeks go red.

"A little," he admitted.

"Where else?" Derek asked, tempted to run his hands over Stiles' whole body to find every ticklish spot possible.

"Not telling you that," Stiles said quickly, eyes wide. "You'll know all of my weaknesses then!" 

Derek chuckled, settling in to kiss Stiles again. "My evil plan has been foiled."

"Mmm. You'll have to think of another way to get your answers," Stiles murmured between kisses.

"Might take me a while if we're still doing this," Derek replied, kissing him a bit more heatedly just so he could hear the little noises Stiles made.

He swallowed a groan, Stiles lifting his hips to try to get Derek to follow him back down onto the recliner. When that didn't seem to work, Stiles grabbed Derek's hips and pulled him on top of his body completely, loving the feel of his weight heavy on his slighter frame. Derek kept kissing him, Stiles touching everywhere he could, and it wasn't until he heard his own voice moaning 'fuck' that Stiles realised Derek had moved his shirt to the side and was giving him a hickey. He didn't care if it bruised for the rest of the week; Derek's stubbled chin rubbing against his skin as he nipped and licked the nape of his neck was the hottest thing to happen to Stiles in years. He held Derek to him, moving his head to the side so Derek could access him easier.

"Oh, shit. Derek. I have to pee. Damn it, this is so not fair," Stiles groaned.

Derek's body was kind of pressing on his bladder, and Stiles kind of hated his internal organs right about then. Derek didn't seem to hate him, which was nice, and sat up.

"There's a bathroom down there, door on the right," Derek said, nodding to the two doors at the bottom of the theatre.

"You have your own bathroom in your movie theatre?" Stiles asked over his shoulder, running to the door.

"I didn't like walking out to the main bathroom all the time," Derek called after him.

Stiles slammed himself into the bathroom, fumbling to lock the door, get his belt and pants off, all so he could take the world's longest piss in the history of pissing. Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, but it certainly felt like it. Stiles washed his hands, and after a few seconds of contemplation, decided that he was too curious for his own good and snooped in the medicine cabinet. He was somewhat disappointed to find nothing but soap and spare hand towels in the cabinet. _Where were the lube and condoms? For a guy with his own movie theatre, Derek surely had to watch porn in it!_ But then, if he lived with his sister (no matter if she had her own freaking wing in the mansion), it could be extremely awkward. Stiles would ask him when they'd known each other a bit longer. He took a moment to inspect the three hickies Derek had left on his neck and shoulder, grinning when he saw the indentation of his teeth in his skin.

He left the bathroom to go back up to the recliner. It seemed that Derek had disappeared, and Stiles frowned as he looked around for him. There were a bunch of blankets he was sure hadn't been there earlier, but no sign of his boyfriend. Stiles shrugged and flopped back onto the chair. A few minutes passed and he wondered if it would be weird to send Derek a text to ask where he'd gone. Deciding that was a bit too clingy for his taste, he reclined back on the chair and started playing Tap Tap Revenge. The theatre door opened as he was halfway through his third song, and Stiles looked over to see ... _a giant marshmallow_.

"Uh, Derek?" Stiles asked warily.

The marshmallow shed itself, blankets and pillows dropping to the floor in a mass avalanche, and Derek grinned at him.

"You said you wanted to build a fort."

"Oh, that's _awesome_." Stiles dropped his phone on the recliner so he could tackle Derek into a hug (and so he could kiss him filthily too, so sue him).

Derek's eyes were so dilated by the time they pulled away that Stiles could barely see the colour of his eyes. He licked his lips, feeling them tingle against his tongue, and grinned.

"A fort sounds like way too much work right now. Blanket and pillow nest will be so much better, especially for cuddle times."

"That sounds... doable."

"I'm doable," Stiles muttered, almost joking.

Derek must have heard him because his ears went a pink colour and he blushed gently. Oh, fuck, that shouldn't make Stiles want to make out with him even more, should it? He made himself turn away so he wouldn't throw himself on the poor guy, and tugged Derek over to the other blankets, setting up a foundation for their nest.

Half an hour, two pillow fights, and one blanket worm later, the nest was completed, Stiles was snuggled inside of it, settled between Derek's legs, and a movie was finally playing. They had somehow agreed to watch _Chicken Run_. It made Stiles crave chicken nuggets, so he was probably the worst person on the planet. Derek just laughed and offered to take him out for food. As comfortable as he was in their little nest, Stiles wanted food even more, which is how Derek found himself ending a date at McDonald's.

On his drive home, Stiles was too full, happy, and kissed out (yeah, it was totally a thing now) to notice that he was followed by a blonde woman driving an SUV.

...


	4. Seventh date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek meets Stiles' father for a Stilinski tradition, and he takes Stiles home afterwards to make out and cuddle.

Derek wasn't nervous. He was absolutely fucking terrified. Stiles had to go to his father's that weekend - baseball season had started and the Mets were playing their first game. (Stiles and John always watched the game together; apparently it was a Stilinski tradition.) Derek had tried not to pout at the idea he wouldn't be able to see Stiles that weekend (he was a grown man and he did not pout; _shut up, Laura_ ). Stiles had asked if he'd like to join them, and he had seemed nervous at the idea, as if he thought that Derek wouldn't want to be there, or wouldn't want to meet his father. Derek had agreed to the date immediately. The smile he'd received in response made his own nerves worth it.

Now, however, he was pacing in his room, had to leave in less than twenty minutes or he'd be late, and Derek was facing a dilemma. He had no idea what to wear. It had taken him almost twenty minutes just to choose briefs, and now he was reconsidering even those.

"Derek, if you don't leave soon, you're going to be... what the hell happened in here?" Laura asked, eyes wide as she stared at his room.

Derek blinked, looking at the room as if only then realising how much of his wardrobe was strewn across seemingly _everything_.

"I didn't realise. I can't find anything to wear," he admitted.

"With a mess like that, I'm not surprised," she replied, raising an eyebrow at him. "So what's wrong with jeans and a shirt?"

"Nothing. _Everything_. I don't even know. I'll just call Stiles and tell him that I can't make it tonight."

Laura leaped forward and snatched his phone off the bedside table before he could grab it. "You're doing nothing of the sort, Derek Liam Hale! Here, wear these jeans with this shirt. Get in the bathroom, and get changed. Right now, or so help me..." she trailed off with a growl, handing him a blue shirt and black jeans.

"Geez! All right," Derek muttered, stumbling over to his bathroom before she followed through on her vague threat (she usually followed through with Chinese burns and he didn't want to risk that level of pain over _clothes_ ).

"You've got two minutes!" Laura called out cheerfully, leaving before he could answer.

Derek tugged the jeans and shirt on, and then spent a good minute trying to decide whether to do the top button up or not. _Not_ , he decided, feeling too constricted by the shirt already. He came out of the bathroom just as Laura returned with a pair of boots, shoving them at him.

"Let me know if you can't choose your own socks," she added with a smirk.

Derek rolled his eyes; Laura already knew that all of his socks were plain black. He pushed a pile of clothes off his bed, sat down and pulled on a pair of socks, followed by his boots. _One foot at a time; he could do this_. He was so concentrated on his task that Derek almost jumped out of his skin when his phone went off. He picked it up before Laura could pounce again, and saw that it was from Stiles.

_Hey, Derek :) Dad's making dad jokes & even worse, I'm starting to think they're funny. You have to come save me! See you soon :D_

Derek let out a small breath he hadn't known he was holding, and grinned a little. _Yeah, he could so totally do this_. 

_On my way now. See you soon_. 

...

Stiles met Derek at the door, grinning broadly and looking extremely relieved. Derek held up a six-pack of beer, hoping that he'd bought something that Stiles and his father liked.

"Oh, you even bought the low sugar stuff. Awesome, now Dad'll _have_ to drink it," Stiles said with a cackle.

"You don't like this brand? I can go buy something else."

"Nope, this is good. Thanks, Derek. You didn't have to bring anything, by the way," Stiles added, kissing him.

Derek's lips curved into a smile and he kissed Stiles back, arm winding around his waist to hold him close. Stiles grinned against his mouth, nipping at Derek's lip as he put his arms around Derek's neck eagerly, fingers threading through his hair and giving a soft tug. Derek did not whine in response. Honest.

There was a slight cough behind Stiles and Derek realised that Stiles was kissing him in front of his father. And he'd just whined in front of Stiles' father. Oh god, this was already a disaster.

"Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Dad. We're keeping it PG-13," Stiles mumbled, burying his head against Derek's shoulder and muttering something about the ground opening up beneath him.

"Please, that was at least PG-15," the Sheriff replied, but Derek could see the grin on his face. 

"Mmm, yeah, it was. Might as well go for M15+ then," Stiles said, winking at Derek as he moved to kiss him again. 

"You can introduce me to your boyfriend before this goes anywhere near the M region, thank you very much, Stiles. And if it ever _does_ get to that region, you had better make sure I'm not in the house; walking in on you having sex is an experience I'm not willing to repeat."

"It was _one time_ , and _you_ were meant to be working late that night! And this is so not the kind of thing I should be discussing in front of my _boyfriend_ ," Stiles added with a groan. "Derek, this is my Dad, John Stilinski. Dad, this is Derek Hale, my boyfriend. And I'll be damn lucky to still call him my boyfriend after this disaster of a date."

"I ran out of a restaurant on you to have a panic attack, Stiles. This isn't the worst date in the world," Derek murmured, trying to ease Stiles' nerves as well as his own. 

Hearing about Stiles' sex-life wouldn't be a highlight of their dates so far, but being called Stiles' boyfriend was a definite plus.

"Nice to meet you, Derek. Stiles has told me a lot about you," John said with a grin, holding his hand out. 

Stiles moved to the side so Derek could actually walk into the house, and he shook John's hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Stilinski, sir."

"Call me John, Derek. Now, have you seen a Mets game before?" John asked, clapping him on the shoulder and leading him to the lounge room.

"Not yet, but I've been told it'll be good," Derek said with a slight grin.

"Oh, it'll be something," John said, chuckling.

John was surprisingly nice towards Derek, and he didn't even try to threaten Derek. He was fairly sure that Stiles had something to do with that, because John looked over at his gun holster a few times, as if he wanted to do the whole 'cleaning the weapon on the kitchen table' thing with him.

The Stilinski house was moderately sized and while there were a distinct lack of feminine things in the house (Laura always seemed to leave her heels and handbags scattered throughout the house, usually where Derek was most likely to trip over them), Derek noticed a few things that looked like they haven't been moved in years. There's a wind chime hanging in the porch, a set of decorative plates that stood behind glass, a crooked set of flying porcelain ducks on the kitchen wall. They weren't exactly feminine in the design, but they were things that Derek really couldn't see a man like the Sheriff buying for himself. He was pretty sure if Stiles purchased things like that, they would have a comic book theme. (He briefly wondered if Batman decorative plates were a thing.)

"So, my son tells me that you're the owner of the Hale hotel and restaurants?" John asked after Stiles left to get beer from the fridge during an ad break. 

"Yes, sir. Uh, John," Derek corrected himself quickly, trying to smile and feeling like he grimaced instead.

"Must've taken a lot to get a business like that off the ground," John commented.

"A few years of hard work, and then a few months of my sister organising the PR and publicity side of things. She's scarily persuasive with things like that, and I'd probably still be living in a trailer if it wasn't for her."

"You used to live in a trailer?" Stiles asked in surprise, handing a beer to his father and one to Derek before sitting between them and opening his own bottle.

"Yeah, for a few years. The landlady was a really nice woman; she let me pay a month's rent by chopping up wood for her. She didn't have a fireplace from what I could tell, but she seemed happy enough."

Stiles spluttered on his drink at that, and Derek patted him on the back as he tried not to choke.

"All right, game's back on. We'll talk more later," John said, turning his attention to the screen. 

Derek tried to pay attention to the game, he truly did. But he was hyper aware of Stiles sitting right next to him, their bodies pressed against each other from shoulder to calf, the foot that nudged his slightly, and Stiles' relaxed hand that was resting on his knee. Derek was also hyper aware of the Sheriff sitting in the armchair nearby, glancing over at them every few minutes or so. Stiles absent-mindedly drew patterns on Derek's knee, and it took all of his willpower to not take that wandering hand in his own and drag Stiles out to the kitchen to kiss him _properly_. 

_He'd use his tongue to copy the patterns he was drawing on the roof of Stiles' mouth. Shit, he was staring at Stiles' mouth again. Fuck_. Derek turned his attention back to the screen quickly, his cheeks going a faint shade of pink when John made a noise that sounded more like a laugh. Stiles didn't seem to notice and continued with his patterns on Derek's leg.

Stiles tapped his foot and chewed on the hem of his shirt nervously as his favourite player stood at the plate, baseball bat in hand. Derek took Stiles' jittery hand in his own, squeezing gently. Stiles glanced over at him briefly, looking surprised. Then he smiled brightly and returned his attention to the screen, his shirt falling from his lips and back against his chest. When the batter hit a home run, Stiles jumped off the lounge and almost pulled Derek along with him. He sat down immediately, his cheeks pink as he apologised, Derek rolling his eyes at the unnecessary apology. Stiles took Derek's hand in his own again, and as he got caught up in the game once more, he started to rub circles onto the back of Derek's hand.

Ten minutes later, with Stiles alternating between caressing his hand and his leg, Derek finally came to the conclusion that this was his very own version of Hell itself. He saw John looking over to them every so often, the older man very clearly wanting to laugh at his misfortune, and that just didn't help Derek at all. 

Finally, what felt like hours later (it probably had been hours, Derek had no idea when they started watching the game, let alone what the time was now), the Mets pulled off their first win for the season. Derek, who learned very damn quickly when to let go of Stiles' hand so he didn't lose his own arm, let him go just in time for Stiles to get up and jump around, crowing victory on behalf of his favourite team.

"Excellent win, son. I'm going out to get burgers and fries to celebrate. It's the first time in a month, so yes, I'm allowed to eat junk food tonight," the Sheriff added before Stiles could reprimand him.

Stiles still muttered about cholesterol levels and heart attacks, but John ignored him with a fond smile, and headed out to the car. The moment the door was closed, Derek was surprised to get a lap full of Stiles, his boyfriend straddling his lap eagerly.

"I've been dying to do this all night," Stiles admitted, dragging his lips along Derek's stubble before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Derek grinned and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, pulling him in closer. "I had to stop myself from kissing you into the lounge. The patterns you were drawing on my leg and hand were driving me crazy." 

"Good. I want you to feel just as desperate and crazy as I do," Stiles groaned, moving to nip at Derek's collarbone.

"Think that can be arranged," Derek murmured, his fingers threading between Stiles' gently. 

Stiles made an absolutely obscene noise as Derek rocked his hips up against his, stubble rubbing against Stiles' cheek before kissing him and swallowing his noises. Stiles flicked his tongue against Derek's, fingers caressing his ribs and moving up to trail against his collarbones. He whimpered slightly when Stiles' hips met his halfway, grinding against each other as pure need consumed them. Derek bit, licked, and sucked at Stiles' plump lips, and Stiles pulled away to kiss his jawline and bite at his chin and jaw. Derek had kissed and been kissed a few times over the years, but he'd never had his chin bitten before. He found that he liked it - a lot - and made a small noise of appreciation.

"Like that, huh?" Stiles asked, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning up at him.

"Yeah, I do," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Stiles' swollen lips.

"Good to know. How about we get out of here after dinner? I want to find out what else you like," Stiles added, licking his lips.

"Me too," Derek said, nodding quickly. 

"Excellent; now let me up so I can get my boner under control before Dad gets home," Stiles said, patting Derek's chest and giving his cheek a light kiss before sitting up.

_Good idea_ , Derek thought to himself with a blush.

Barely five minutes passed before John returned home, and he made an effort to jangle the keys in the lock and even knocked on the door before entering his own home.

"Is it safe?" John asked, a hand over his eyes firmly as he walked to the lounge room doorway.

"Very funny, Dad," Stiles replied, rolling his eyes. "Need help with the food?"

"No, it's fine," John answered, finally taking his hand off his face and bringing the bag into the room.

Derek didn't know whether his dopamine levels were ridiculously high from kissing Stiles earlier, but he swore it was the best burger he'd ever tasted. He even asked John where he'd bought it from so he could ask the chef for the burger's sauce recipe, and though both John and Stiles seemed surprised at his enthusiasm, he was informed of the small out-of-the-way burger joint on the outskirts of town. 

"So where's your next date going to be?" John asked, eating his curly fries slowly and obviously savouring each bite. "Stiles said he has a list of places you like? It's a good idea, that. Took my wife and I six dates to finally admit that neither of us liked seafood, but we kept going to the crab place in town because we thought the other liked it," he said, shaking his head.

"I haven't given him my list yet, Dad. Way to spoil the surprise," Stiles said, grinning.

"Your list?" Derek asked in surprise, licking some of the sauce off his thumb before turning to Stiles.

Stiles made an odd sound, eyes fixed on Derek's thumb, and John laughed good-naturedly when Derek and Stiles both blushed. Stiles turned away and grabbled in the messenger bag that was sitting beside the lounge, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and presenting it to Derek. 

"I thought we could see if you liked any of these places to go on a date; the ones with the stars are my favourites. But seriously, don't worry if you don't want to or something, it was just an idea, and I don't always have good ideas - just ask Scott. Actually, don't ever ask Scott. Everything he says is lies. And don't ask Dad, either. In fact, ask _no one_ about my ideas."

"Stiles, breathe; it's a good idea," Derek said, grinning slightly as he took the list from Stiles.

Stiles breathed in and out dramatically, but seemed to calm down a little, and returned his attention to his burger. (He'd inhaled his curly fries soon after getting his serving.)

"I'm not a big fan of sushi, honestly, but I could eat the karage chicken at that place," Derek said, nodding to the second place on the list.

"Fried chicken and mayo is awesome," Stiles said, grinning.

He chuckled and nodded. "I don't think I've been to the other places before. Can we try takeout from a couple first?" Derek suggested.

"Definitely. Actually, that place does better takeout than eat-in. It's the containers they package the food in, I swear," Stiles said, indicating to an Indian restaurant.

"I hope you have _Rosa's_ on that list, Stiles," John commented, smiling.

"She's first on the list, Dad. And starred," he added proudly.

" _Rosa's_?" Derek queried.

"Italian. Best Italian place in Beacon Hills, actually. They make the pizza in a wood-fire oven, and they've got individual serving plates that are shaped like the long-handled pizza trays, and it's just awesome."

"The pasta's handmade too. Stiles has been trying to get Rosa's spaghetti and meatball recipe for _years_ ," John said, grinning.

"I'll wear her down eventually," Stiles muttered. 

"It's been seven years, Stiles."

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

"I didn't know you were interested in cooking," Derek said with a smile.

"It's something I do in my spare time, mostly. Or if I'm stressed. Last year during finals week, I baked so many cookies that a frat house down the street actually came asking for them. I fed two fraternities and still had enough leftover for Christmas presents," Stiles said, chuckling.

"Where'd you get all the ingredients for that many cookies?" Derek asked in surprise.

"Costco. A few friends go in every few months and stock up on _everything_. Even if we don't need it."

"Like what?" 

"Panty liners and tampons were one of the more unnecessary purchases. We donated them to one of the sororities. I still don't know if they were grateful or annoyed at us; I think they thought we were insinuating they were PMSing or something, but we just really didn't need them. Either way, half of us got egged, and the other half got dates."

"What did you get?" Derek asked curiously.

"A date with Heather," Stiles said, chuckling. "She egged my car at the end of it though, so I suppose it shouldn't really count."

Derek had no idea what to say to that, honestly, and the thought of being egged while on a date - even at the end of one - made him want to cringe.

"You never told me that it was _Heather_ who egged you, Stiles," John said, eyebrows raised. 

"I didn't? Huh, could've sworn I told you that. Look at the time, Derek and I have to go now," Stiles said quickly, taking Derek's empty plate and almost running to the kitchen.

"He said it was a trick or treater. Knew it was too late in the year for that sort of thing," John muttered, shaking his head and sighing. "I might leave you two to it. Have a good night, Derek. Nothing below the waist while you're in my house, and if you're going to have any more to drink, then check yourself with the breathalyser by the front door before you go anywhere."

 

"I heard that, Dad!" Stiles called out, sounding mortified. "Derek, we're leaving; meet me by the front door so I don't have to look either one of you in the eye. Dad, you're banned from eating anything but salad for the next month!" 

"Pasta and bacon salad; potato salad with bacon; Caesar salad with bacon. I think I'll live," John called back, chuckling.

Stiles appeared in the doorway, looking annoyed. " _Don't you dare_. You know how bad bacon is for you! And cut back on the cheese too; that's not helping anyone," he added. "I'm going shopping for you next weekend, and I'm going to make sure you eat every single thing, even the green stuff."

"Oh no, not the green stuff," John groaned, smiling still.

"Don't you groan at me; you're living to a ripe old age no matter what; got it, old man?"

"Got it, kid. Now stop all this before we both terrify your date with hugs and us talking about our feelings."

Stiles rolled his eyes in the fondest way Derek had ever seen, and pulled John in for a tight hug. "Love you, Dad," Stiles murmured, his words muffled against his shirt. 

"Love you too. Now get out of here," he said roughly, ruffling Stiles' hair. John turned to Derek and held out a hand. "It was great meeting you, Derek. Look after my kid, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Derek said, blushing a bit, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and pulled him out of the lounge room, then out of the house, calling goodbye over his shoulder. Derek was reluctant to let go of his hand, but he had to drive home. They both did, in fact, he realised on seeing Stiles' Jeep sitting in the driveway.

"What the hell?" Stiles muttered, jogging over to his Jeep. " _Two_ flat tyres?! Oh, fucking kids, that's so not cool. Damn it."

"Looks like they just let the air out rather than slashing them. They didn't get past my hubcaps; I'll drive you home," Derek offered.

"Okay, thanks," Stiles said with a small sigh of relief. "I'll just let Dad know the Jeep's in the driveway," he added, going back up to the house.

Derek got in his car and started the ignition to get the heater warmed up; the night air was a little chilly. On the street behind him, a black car flew past, tyres squealing. Stiles made it back to the car in less than two minutes and slid into the front seat.

"So... You still up for making out at my place?" Stiles asked, clipping his seat belt on and grinning at Derek broadly.

Derek was glad he wasn't drinking anything, because he probably would have choked on it, or spluttered it out in Stiles' face, more likely.

"Yes. Definitely up for that," he breathed.

"Good; I've double checked with my roommate, and he's not due back until tomorrow, so you can stay and cuddle if you like," Stiles offered.

Derek nodded firmly. "That sounds nice. Really nice, actually."

Stiles' smile was brighter than before, and Derek pulled out of the driveway, his chest feeling surprisingly light.

Stiles directed him to his apartment, attempting to imitate a GPS (badly), and they passed Derek's usual turn off after a few minutes. Further down Derek's usual road, a black car was waiting with hazard lights blinking brightly. Neither man noticed the car, and Stiles continued chatting away about his favourite TV shows as a child. (Captain Planet ranked first on the list, and Derek admitted that he'd dressed up as Captain Planet one year for Halloween. Stiles described all of the dirty things he'd do to Derek if he could have a copy of that photo. Blushing, Derek agreed.)

Derek had barely parked the car before Stiles was opening the door to get out. He rushed around to open Derek's door, laughing as he offered his hand.

"C'mon, humour me," he said when Derek just looked at his offered hand warily. "I won't bite unless you ask nicely."

Derek flushed red, but took his belt off and let Stiles tug him out of the car. The moment the door closed behind him, Stiles nudged Derek up against it and proceeded to kiss him until his toes curled. They both pulled away breathless, and Derek licked his lips, trying to get his brain to function properly again.

"What was that for?" he asked; if it was because of something he'd done, Derek would make sure to do it every day for the rest of his life.

"Thanks for meeting my dad; he's important to me, and I really wanted you two to like each other."

"Yeah, I could tell he's important. He seems like a great guy," Derek admitted.

Stiles nodded firmly. "Yeah, he is. Now, let's get upstairs. I'll give you the grand tour of my two-bedroom apartment."

Derek locked the car and followed Stiles to his apartment building, their hands joined and fingers entwined. Stiles' apartment was filled with games, comics, movies, and a TV screen that was almost as large as one wall. There was a shoe stand by the front door, and they both took a few minutes to take their shoes off (Derek had to unlace his boots, and Stiles just toed his sneakers off).

"As you can probably tell, the TV is used a lot. And the couch is comfy as all hell to sit on, but you never want to sleep on it for more than one night. And even then, a night's still probably too long," Stiles muttered, rubbing his back as if he still felt a remembered pain. "The kitchen's down there, bathroom's here, that's Scott's room, and this one's mine," he added, stopping in front of the door with the large Batman poster stuck to it.

"Would never have guessed," Derek deadpanned, a grin twitching at his lips.

Stiles laughed and pulled him in for a lengthy kiss. Derek licked at Stiles' lips, his tongue flicking up against Stiles' slowly. Stiles kind of shivered against Derek, and he pulled him in close, thinking he was cold. Stiles pulled away briefly, pressing a few kisses to Derek's lips before anything else.

"We'll be much more comfortable lying down, don't you think?"

"Sounds comfortable," Derek murmured in agreement, moving to press a kiss against Stiles' neck.

"Mmmm. Fuck, I like that a hell of a lot," Stiles groaned, fumbling behind him for his door handle.

When he finally found it and opened the door, Stiles pawed at the light switch until light flooded the room, and then immediately started walking back, guiding Derek over to his bed. Derek nudged him back onto the mattress, climbing on top of Stiles to kiss him firmly, cupping his head with one hand as Stiles arched up into his kiss. Derek kept kissing Stiles eagerly, their hips pressed against each other, and he slid a hand beneath Stiles' shirt, fingers splayed and stretched against his stomach.

"Ooh, fuck. Wait, I... I'm ticklish there," Stiles gasped, squirming underneath him in a way that actually felt really fucking good.

Derek grinned down at him, rocking his hips slightly against Stiles' squirming body. "Just how ticklish?"

"Not enough to cause serious damage. Back of my knees will do that though," Stiles said with a chuckle. "Found that one out the hard way."

"Mmm, I'll bet they were laughing too."

"It was Scott's own fault for initiating a tickle fight. Where are you ticklish? You've already found two of my spots," Stiles mumbled, his fingers sliding around Derek's back and under his shirt, caressing the warm skin above his jeans with light brushes of his fingertips.

"Nowhere; at least, nowhere not that I know of," Derek replied, sliding his fingers up Stiles' stomach again.

He laughed a little beneath him, a gasping sound that turned erotic when Derek's fingers slid against his nipples.

"Sensitive. So _very_ sensitive," Stiles groaned.

Derek sat them both up properly and pulled Stiles' shirt off, brushing his thumbs against Stiles' nipples along the way, and making him moan again. He guided Stiles back on to the mattress and looked at him, the moles dotting his body, the flushed skin that was creeping down from his neck. Derek noticed how puffy Stiles' nipples were and wasn't exactly surprised at their sensitivity. He stroked one lightly, circling the areola with a fingertip, Stiles moaning in response and his nipple hardening. He pressed it with the pad of his thumb, circling the beaded nipple and then squeezing firmly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not fair," Stiles whined. "You found my weakness already."

"You'll get your turn with me later. Now, your nipples are mine," Derek murmured, sliding down to kiss one nipple as he thumbed the other one still.

"Fine. I'm going to touch every part of your body and find your weakness, and then you'll be mine," Stiles groaned, holding Derek's head against his chest.

_I already am yours_ , Derek thought to himself, but didn't dare voice his thought. It was too much, too soon, and besides all that, his mouth was full. He grinned and flicked his tongue against Stiles' nipple firmly.

Stiles groaned something incoherent and pulled Derek up to kiss him again. Derek let him guide him up, his hands palming at Stiles' chest, and when he pulled away from the kiss, Derek started sucking a kiss against Stiles' neck. He continued down, making his way back to his delightful new game, and blew on Stiles' nipple softly. Stiles tugged his hair sharply, and Derek bit back his own moan.

"You like that," Stiles murmured, grinning. "So if I do this," he mused, guiding Derek down to him before biting Derek's chin and tugging on his hair.

Derek actually whimpered, his eyes shutting and his hips jerking forward to rut against Stiles firmly.

" _Ooh, yeah_ , thought so... C'mon, big guy. My turn now," Stiles said, licking his lips and his pupils blown.

"Nope, not finished," Derek said, lathing a nipple with a wide tongue before he could do anything.

"Fine, you win this round. But just know that I'm going to be ruthless when I - _aah, shit. Fuck_ , do that again," Stiles moaned, Derek rubbing his stubble against his nipple.

Derek grinned and repeated the motion without hesitation, Stiles' fingers digging into his back. He kissed the other nipple, an open mouthed wet kiss that made Stiles writhe. For the next fifteen minutes, Derek alternated between touching, kissing, rubbing, and licking Stiles until his nipples were completely red.

"I'm going to be feeling that for _days_. Fucking hell, that was the most attention those bad boys have gotten _ever_ ," Stiles groaned, his fingers light on his nipples to ease the delicious ache.

Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' lips and moved to sit up again. Stiles grabbed his wrist, eyes wide.

"Where are you going? You agreed to cuddle."

"Just going to take my jeans off," Derek promised.

Stiles grinned at him and let go of his wrist, watching him without an ounce of shame. Derek wondered if he was meant to do a strip tease or something, then realised he really didn't know how to do one, and would probably end up knocking something over. So he just unbuttoned his jeans, slid them down over his hips, and stepped out of the material. Stiles was still grinning, and pulled him down on to the bed with him firmly, pulling the blanket over both of their bodies.

"You want to be the big or little spoon?" Stiles asked.

"Can we just face each other instead?" Derek asked shyly.

"Hell yes," he said, pressing a kiss to Derek's mouth.

Derek smiled and kissed Stiles slowly, cuddling him close. Stiles had to throw something at the light switch to turn it off because neither of them wanted to get up. (Derek had to get up to turn it off anyway; Stiles missed the switch completely and wanted his tissue box back.) They fell asleep together, arms wrapped around one another, Stiles snuggled against Derek's chest and tucked in under his chin firmly. Derek fell asleep smiling.

...


	5. Non-date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to cancel a date, and someone's watching the Hale mansion.

"I'm really sorry, Derek. I can't make it this weekend. My grad supervisor's being an absolute bastard, and I have to rewrite a huge part of my thesis. I'm going to be neck-deep in this for the rest of the week, and I've even kicked Scott out of the apartment so I can concentrate. I'm really, really, seriously sorry. Can you forgive me?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, of course. You do what you've got to do. We'll reschedule for another day, okay? Don't worry," Derek said lightly, trying to smile and hoping it came through that way on the phone.

"Thank you. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Stiles."

"Bye!"

Derek looked at his phone screen for a moment, wondering what he was going to do now. He'd planned on going hiking with Stiles - nothing too big, since Stiles apparently hadn't seen the outdoors since starting graduate school - but he'd been looking forward to it, and it wouldn't be the same without Stiles now. Sighing, Derek decided to stay in and watch a movie instead.

...

"Derek? Where are you?" Laura asked.

Blinking sleepily, Derek frowned. "I'm at home; what's wrong?"

"No you're not! I've been looking for you for the past half an hour! I'm going to get you tagged one of these days," she muttered.

"I'm in the movie..."

"I already checked in there; there's nothing but a big pile of blankets and pillows. And seriously, when are you going to put those away?"

"I'm **in** the big pile of blankets and pillows, Laura," Derek growled, hanging up the phone and curling up to sleep again.

It didn't take long for Laura to find him in the mass of fluff and squishiness he and Stiles had created, and she simply stood there for a moment, staring at her brother with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing in there, Derek? I thought you had a date with Stiles?"

"He had to cancel; he has to work on his thesis."

"So you're sulking in a pile of pillows and blankets?"

"They smell like him," Derek mumbled. "And I wasn't sulking; I was sleeping."

"Okay, that's just creepy, Derek... And it's one in the afternoon. You never sleep during the day. Now get your ass out of that pile of blankets before I drag you out of it."

"I'm tired, Laura," he whined.

"No, you're sulking, and you're acting like a co-dependent boyfriend who can't have a life without his boyfriend around. Now get out of bed and go for a run; you haven't exercised in ten days straight."

Derek was sorely tempted to just drag the pillows over his head and pretend he hadn't heard a thing. But Laura was right. He mocked people in romantic movies for being so co-dependent that they lost all sense of self-worth the moment a guy came along (none of those guys were Stiles though). He sighed and sat up, dragging his feet as he got out of the pile and headed upstairs to change into his running clothes. Laura gathered up the pillows and blankets to take to the laundry before he noticed or could stop her.

Fifteen minutes later, Derek was dressed and started his warm ups. He still felt a little out of it, but put it down to his impromptu nap. He'd feel better after running, Derek decided. Probably.

Derek started at a slow jog, heading towards the back of his house towards the running trail that led into the forest behind his property.

Back inside, Laura watched and waited until Derek had jogged into the forest and was out of earshot before heading to their security room. It was a room she rarely frequented, but Laura had noticed a black SUV sitting outside of the mansion for these last few hours, and while Laura wasn't exactly concerned, she just wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time they'd had their lives threatened since making their first million. Laura watched the footage, frowning when she saw the vehicle pull up, but no one got out. She could see flashes every now and then, and realised that whoever was in that car was taking photos of their home, of them. A cold shudder ran through her, and Laura grabbed her phone to ring their security company.

"Argent Security, this is Victoria Argent speaking."

...

Derek wiped off the sweat that had gathered on his forehead, and tried to tell himself that the reason his heart was pounding was because of his run. Laura frowned at him on seeing the time, and raised an eyebrow.

"You weren't out there for very long, Derek."

"I know; decided to work out inside today," Derek replied, not wanting to admit to the feeling of being watched while he was out running.

"Did something happen?" Laura asked, and her tone was so intense and abrupt that Derek was surprised.

"I... I just felt like I was being watched, that's all," Derek said, trying to shrug it off. "Paranoia, probably."

"Probably," Laura agreed a little too quickly, her smile a little too fake.

"What's going on, Laura?"

She sighed, eyes flicking to the security room door. "Nothing I say is going to stop you from worrying, is it?"

"Probably not, you might as well just tell me," Derek muttered, heart racing for another reason all together now.

"A car's been sitting outside for a few hours, but no one's gotten out of it since it parked. I called the security company and while they're not worried, they're still sending someone out to have a look. We've got to stay in until then, and not answer the door until we get the all clear from security."

Derek sighed heavily. "I thought we'd stop getting the money-crazy fanatics after whats-his-name got rich and famous?" he muttered.

"Doesn't work like that for some people, unfortunately, Der-bear," Laura murmured, ruffling his hair and grinning when he winced and pulled away. "I guess it's lucky that Stiles had to cancel, huh?"

Derek hadn't thought of that, and the idea of Stiles being caught up in something like this makes him feel nauseous. Derek sat on the stairs, his heart pounding, his chest tight and eyes starting to water. He struggled to put his head between his knees, and tried to remember how to _breathe_. Laura swore, cursing at herself, and wrapped an arm around Derek gently, as if she could hold him together herself. Laura noticed that the shuddering breaths Derek take aren't helping like they usually do, and she doesn't know what else to do to help him. Derek hasn't had a panic attack this bad in a long time. Laura gripped onto Derek a little tighter, and called Stiles with her free hand.

"Laura? Is everything okay?"

"Not really. There's a car outside, it's been there for a few hours without anyone getting out, and I accidentally sent Derek into a panic attack. He hasn't had one this bad in a long time; I don't even know if he can hear me right now," Laura admitted, wincing.

"Shit. Put the phone near him... Derek? Hey, Derek, I need you to talk to me, big guy. Can you hear me? I need you to breathe and just give me an answer, okay? I can't see you right now, so just give me a yes, all right?"

"Y-y-yes."

"Good, that's great, Derek. Now, we're going to breathe, okay? Just like we did before, five-seven, all right?" Stiles didn't wait for a response this time, and just started counting.

Laura watched and waited until she saw Derek's chest slowly rise and fall in time with Stiles' words before she moved off the staircase. She didn't stray far, not wanting to leave Derek completely alone when he was like this, but Derek's panic attack had set something off inside of her, and she found that she needed to breathe just as much as Derek. She was startled by the sudden screech of tyres, and looked outside to see the black SUV pulling away from the kerb, tail lights disappearing over the hill mere seconds before a car from Argent Security pulled in at the other end of the street. Laura settled back against the foyer's archway, closed her eyes and kept breathing.

She didn't have to wait long for the call from the security guard, Chris telling her that he'd like to review the footage from the past few hours. Laura agreed, but only after she talked to Stiles again and convinced Derek to go to his home for a while. He'll revert back to his hermit life over this, she's sure of it, and it seemed like Stiles would be the best company for Derek right now. Stiles quickly agreed, telling her that he'd come to pick Derek up so he won't have to drive in his state, and Laura was grateful, even as she nodded Chris through to the security room. Laura wasn't too surprised to open the door to Stiles less than twenty minutes later. He guided Derek out to his Jeep, and Derek was obviously still shaken up enough that he only remembered to say goodbye to Laura when Stiles prompted him.

An hour later, Laura received a photo from Stiles of Derek sleeping, curled up in Stiles' bed. Stiles added that he'd bring him home the next day, and that he'll look after Derek. Laura smiles at the photo of Derek and believed Stiles will do exactly that.

In the security room, Chris stared at the frozen image of the black SUV driving away, recognising Kate's number plate all too easily.

"Is everything okay, Mr. Argent?" Laura asked, seeing the odd expression on his face.

"Everything's fine, Ms. Hale. It just seems to be a fanatic," Chris replied, not looking away from the screen.

...

Stiles rubbed his eyes and looked away from his computer screen for a moment, over to where Derek was still sleeping on his bed. It had taken him a while to get Derek to sleep, hugging him close as Derek trembled in his arms. Stiles had had his fair share of panic attacks over the years, but it was nothing compared to the one he'd seen Derek go under. He rolled his chair over to the bed, softly brushing Derek's hair back from his head. Derek made a soft noise, not waking even as he leaned into Stiles' touch, and he grinned at the sight, his thumb running along Derek's stubble. Derek stirred at that, blinking his way awake slowly.

"Hey, you okay?" Stiles murmured.

Derek nodded and smiled up at him, turning his head so his face was cupped in Stiles' palm. "Better now. How's your thesis going?"

"It's getting somewhere. Hopefully it's enough for that bastard supervisor of mine," Stiles added, grinning. "I'd like to go out on a date with you sometime this month," he snickered.

Derek grabbed Stiles' wrists and tugged him onto the bed, settling him on his hips. "This is good too," he murmured, pulling Stiles down to kiss him firmly.

"Yeah, it is," he mumbled against Derek's lips, snuggling down on his chest and sighing contentedly.

"Let's order in, and you can read your thesis to me."

Stiles snorted. "You want to go back to sleep?"

Derek shook his head and kissed Stiles again. "Like listening to you talk, you've got a soothing voice," he admitted.

"Pretty sure you're the only one that thinks that. Everyone else just thinks I'm weird and annoying."

"Guess I like weird and annoying then," Derek said, chuckling.

Stiles smacked his shoulder and gave a pout. "You big meanie."

Derek raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "You love it. Besides, it's not the only big thing I've got," he added, lifting his hips.

Stiles' jaw dropped and his head lolled back, baring his mole-dotted throat. "I'll say. _Fuck_ , Derek."

Derek stared at Stiles' throat for a moment, wondering at the primitive response he felt a need to mark and claim that throat and the person it belonged to. He licked his lips, moving up onto his elbows to do exactly that when a beeping noise sounded loudly. Stiles groaned, burying his head into the crook of Derek's shoulder.

"What is it?"

"My alarm. I'm meant to have written two thousand words by now."

"How many have you written?"

"Probably a thousand. If I'm lucky," Stiles muttered.

Derek sighed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Stiles' mouth. "Back to it, then. We'll continue this later," he promised.

Stiles mumbled something under his breath that Derek didn't quite catch, but slipped off his lap all the same. "Fine, but let it be known that I am all for making out right now and _you're_ saying no." Stiles pulled a face and rolled his chair back over to his desk.

Derek got off the bed and pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple. "You'll thank me for it later."

"Little Stiles isn't going to," he murmured.

"I'll make it up to Little Stiles when you've reached your word goal for the day. Promise," Derek added, grinning.

Stiles' eyes widened slightly and he nodded quickly, making a shooing motion with his hand. "Go, go; I've got another two thousand words to write."

Derek chuckled and went out to the lounge room so Stiles could study in peace. Two and a half thousand words later, Stiles discovered that Derek was a _very_ good motivator.

...


	6. Ninth date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles meet each other's friends by way of barefoot bowling, and Allison tags along as a bodyguard posing as Derek's friend.

Stiles knocked on the Hale's front door and was surprised when not-a-Hale opened it. He blinked at the brunette a little stupidly, wondering what was going on.

"Hi, you're Stiles, right?" she asked brightly, smiling at him broadly and offering her hand. "I'm Allison, it's nice to meet you."

"Hi Allison. I'm Stiles... Which you already know," he added, shaking her hand firmly. "How do you know that, exactly? Are you a friend of Derek's or Laura's? How long have you known them for?"

"She's a security guard, actually," Derek said from behind Allison. "You don't have to interrogate Stiles," he added firmly, glaring.

"No worries, there was no interrogating," Stiles said with a smile. "Actually, I was probably doing the interrogating more than Allison."

"It's all right, they were reasonable questions," Allison said, shrugging. "I'll be accompanying you and Derek to the bowling alley. It's a precaution after what happened last week, but my parents would prefer to keep an eye on Derek, just in case. They think I'd fit in better with the demographic of your friends."

"Oh, right. That's cool, personal bodyguard, huh? Slight problem about the bowling alley though. We had to change plans 'cause there's a kid's birthday party there today, and I'm so not down with a bunch of kids screaming and throwing heavy balls around. Danny managed to book a lawn bowls place instead, so we've got the whole place to ourselves. Better for security, right?" Stiles added, a little nervously when Allison didn't look exactly pleased.

"Would have preferred to know this sooner; there's no way I'll be able to scope the exits properly before everyone else gets there."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't know you'd be coming, and really, Derek was the one I was more worried about," Stiles said, shrugging and not as apologetic as he could be. He's dating Derek, not Allison.

"It'll be fine. Let's get going," Derek said, nudging past Allison to take Stiles' hand and lead him over to the Camaro.

"Are you okay with lawn bowls? I thought it'd be easier to deal with than a bunch of brats running around. Less noise too."

"Yes, I'm okay with it. You'll be on my team?" Derek asked, tugging him close for a hug.

"Duh; I'm not leaving you alone with my friends. Lydia can be vicious when she wants to be, and Scott can be overprotective, and Jackson... Well, Jackson's just a douche, but he comes as a package deal with Lydia and Danny, so I can't really get rid of him. Just ignore anything he says; I always do.

"Erica's going to meet us there - apparently she and Lydia have bonded over boots or shoes already on Facebook - and she's bringing uh... Boyd and Isaac. You know them, right?" Stiles asked when Derek looked surprised.

"Yes. Boyd's security at the restaurant, Erica's a waitress and usher, as you know, and Isaac works at the bar. He makes amazing cocktails. I just... Well, I didn't think they thought of me as their friend," he admitted.

"Aw, babe," Stiles murmured, nuzzling against him and kissing his neck. "You're amazing, why wouldn't they think of you as their friend?"

"Because I'm also their boss," Derek pointed out. "You called me babe," he added, frowning slightly.

"Not good?" Stiles asked, wincing. "I can think of something else? Or you just don't like pet names?"

"I don't really know. Laura usually uses a pet name when she's trying to annoy me."

"What does Laura call you?" Stiles asked, eyes bright as he grinned.

"Oh, no. I'm not telling you," Derek said, shaking his head quickly.

"Aw, come on. _Please_ , babe? Honey-bun? Sweet cakes? Lover boy?" Stiles suggested, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're ridiculous sometimes, you know that?" Derek murmured, kissing Stiles.

"Yeah, I know. C'mon, just tell me. I won't laugh!"

"Don't we have to get going?" Derek asked pointedly.

"No! Well, yes, actually. But I'm going to bug you about it until you give in, you know that, right?"

Derek sighed, but he could feel a smile twitching at his lips. "Yeah, I know. Let's get going, _babe_."

Stiles' eyes widened slightly. "Okay, I just discovered a brand new kink. We're so road testing that one later when we're alone," he murmured, pressing his body up against Derek's as he kissed him firmly.

Derek was breathing heavily when Stiles pulled away, his lips tingling and eyes closed. "Der-bear; she calls me Der-bear."

"Hmm, that's cute. Probably too cute to scream when I'm orgasming though," Stiles quipped cheekily, ducking out of Derek's embrace to go to the passenger side of the car.

Derek forced himself to _breathe,_ his cheeks pink, and slid into the driver's seat, waiting until Stiles had his belt on before he turned on the ignition. Stiles input the directions on the GPS, and Derek started to drive, Allison following behind them.

"You're really thinking of something to call out when you're orgasming?" Derek asked.

"Well, not exactly. I think your name's perfect for that," Stiles said, smirking. "But maybe a pet name so you know I'm horny or we have to leave a place because I'm going to climb you like a tree; something like that."

"You mean a _code name?_ " Derek asked, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"Yeah, but _sexier_. Damn it, it was meant to sound sexy, not childish," Stiles said with a pout.

"It _does_ kind of sound sexy," Derek admitted, grinning. "I actually think _babe_ is starting to grow on me."

"Really, babe?" Stiles asked, licking his lips and giving him a wink.

Derek blushed and nodded quickly.

"Now we've got to think of one for me," Stiles said, chuckling.

"Why can't I just say your name?"

"'Cause that's not how sexy code names work," he replied. "Hold up, I'll find a list online," Stiles murmured, pulling his phone out of his pocket and doing a search. "Here we go, I'll say some, and you tell me what you like."

"All right," Derek said, still a little bemused by this whole thing.

Stiles grinned at him, his posture slouching as he scrolled through the page. Then he snorted laughter, his shoulders trembling. " _Cheeky monkey_. Please _don't_ call me that. _Buttercup_. Hmm, that just makes me think of Reese's... Ooh, _cuddlebug!_ Can you imagine saying that? Actually, _can_ you say that?" Stiles asked, grinning at him again.

"I don't think I can say something as ridiculous as _cuddlebug_ ," Derek said, grinning when Stiles burst out laughing.

"Nope, definitely not sexy enough. _Dearest? Dollface?_ No, definitely not that... Who'd call someone _doobie?_ I seriously doubt that _dummy_ is an affectionate name," Stiles mumbled.

Derek kept driving, following the GPS' instructions and listening to the half-murmured names that Stiles was saying as he looked at his phone. He didn't really know why this was so important to Stiles - Derek was fairly certain that he could convey his emotions through a look alone - but he let him continue anyway.

"Dove, fruit loop, gorgeous, handsome, hot stuff, lambchop? Can we just agree on no food-related names?" Stiles groaned.

"I didn't mind one of those," Derek admitted.

"Really? Which one?"

"Gorgeous," he replied, giving Stiles a quick once over.

"Aw, you think I'm gorgeous, babe?"

"Damn straight, gorgeous," Derek replied, grinning.

"Hmm, I actually like that," Stiles said, taking Derek's hand to press a kiss to the back of his knuckles before placing his hand back on the steering wheel.

"Dearest was another one, but that's a bit... intimate, don't you think, _dearest?_ " Derek murmured, voice soft and low.

"Well, _fuck_. It is when _you_ say it," Stiles said, mouth hanging open slightly.

Derek shook his head, blushing a little still at his boyfriend's response. Then Stiles shifted on his seat, sitting up a bit straighter, and looked at his phone again.

"Okay, now what if you're **not** horny? What if you're panicking and want to get out without causing a scene, or something's wrong?" Stiles asked, his voice a little firmer than it had been a minute ago.

Derek wondered if that's really what this was all about, not a code name for sex, but for safety. Stiles would think of a way to get them to have a way to communicate without worrying that others would judge him if he was panicking. The attack he'd had last week had been bad, Derek knew that, and if he'd been out in public when it hit him, he probably would have recognised the warning signs, and a code word could help with that. Stiles could get him away from others, and Derek wouldn't have to worry about having an anxiety attack and being judged at the same time.

"Dove."

"Really, _dove?_ "

"Sure. If something's that wrong, I don't think I'd be able to do more than one syllable, and besides, a bird's easier to remember than something ridiculous like that cheesy monkey or whatever it was."

" _Cheeky_ monkey!" Stiles corrected, snickering loudly. "I like yours better, though... And dove it is."

"All right, gorgeous," Derek said, making his voice as lustful as he possibly could, giving Stiles a wink when he went red.

"Uh, think anyone will notice if we're late? I have a sudden desire to deep throat your cock, _babe_ ," Stiles murmured.

"Fuck, these names are going to become Pavlovian responses for us now, aren't they?" Derek groaned when he felt his cock start to harden.

"Probably."

Derek glanced at the GPS, then to Allison's car behind them. "I think they'll notice if we're late. We'll have to leave the cock-sucking until later."

"Not too much later though, right? Because I've felt that monster in your pants, and I swear I've been drooling over the thought of it in my mouth. I'm going to be such a cockslut for your cock, I swear."

Derek almost pulled over right there and then. Stiles seemed to notice his predicament, and there was a heavy feeling in the air as they both waited for Stiles to decide whether to continue with his teasing or stop. Derek had no idea which one he wanted, and held his breath in anticipation.

"I've always liked sucking cock, but just _thinking_ about your cock in my mouth just sets a fire to my belly, and it's hotter than the fires of Mount Doom, I swear. I'm going to call your cock _precious_ every time I go down on you, 'cause one cock to rule them all? Totally going to be your new catchphrase."

"You're talking _nerdy_ to me?" Derek breathed out, grinning a bit.

"Aw, c'mon. I thought I was doing good. My precious still looks interested, at least," Stiles added with a slight smirk.

"One cock to rule them all, huh? We'll see about that after I get my hands on yours," Derek replied, grinning outright now.

"Haha! I _knew_ you liked it. Oh, what else can I think of?"

"Nothing else; we're here now," Derek said, nodding ahead to the lawn bowls club.

"Aww, damn. So... We're definitely having a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon later, right?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to keep a straight face any time someone talks about the one ring now," Derek admitted.

"Then we'll do the porn version instead. Pretty sure they talk about the one cock ring to rule them all," Stiles said, laughing.

"Really?"

"I sure hope so, babe, or it'd be a waste of pure porn gold."

Derek pulled into the club's parking lot and turned off the car. "Stay right there, okay?"

"Uh, all right," Stiles said, frowning slightly when Derek got out of the car and slammed the door before he'd even finished talking.

Then Derek was opening the passenger door and tugging Stiles out of the car. He closed the door behind him and pressed Stiles up against the car firmly, his body crowding his. Over Stiles' shoulder, he could see Allison pull up and start evaluating the building and surrounding area.

"You all right, big guy?" Stiles asked, sounding breathless.

"Yeah. You're incredible and amazing, you know that?" Derek murmured, soft and sweet, before kissing Stiles in a way that was anything _but_ soft and sweet.

Stiles licked his lips as they pulled away, his eyelids fluttering open. "What was that for?"

"You being you. I've... I haven't always been comfortable talking about a lot of things, and you make it so easy, and ... well, thank you."

Blushing, Stiles nodded quickly, and pulled Derek in for another kiss.

"Hey, Stilinski, get a room!"

Derek felt Stiles flip the bird over his shoulder in the direction of the voice, but he didn't pull away in embarrassment, and Derek decided that if Stiles wasn't embarrassed, then he wouldn't be either.

"Well, as you might've guessed, that was Jackson, Beacon Hills' _resident douchebag!_ " Stiles yelled over his shoulder.

Mocking laughter was the only response, and Stiles rolled his eyes before looking back at Derek. Derek's ears were slightly red, but he looked determined, and he was still holding onto Stiles, so he figured he was all right.

"Remember, just ignore him. He's the blonde who's up himself and is probably going to spend most of the afternoon checking himself out in all of the reflective surfaces. If he attacks, mention something about his hair. He'll run away crying then. I'm actually being serious about that; in senior year, I told him his hair was sticking up, and he spent ten minutes in the bathroom afterwards and refused to come out."

"That was also because you threw your water bottle at him," another voice said, sounding both amused and disapproving.

"Danny! Hey, glad you could make it. This is Derek, my boyfriend. Derek, this is Danny, Jackson's best friend and non-douche."

"Stop complimenting me, Stilinski, I might blush," Danny deadpanned, then turned to Derek and smiled warmly. "Hey, nice to finally meet you, Derek. Stiles won't shut up about you."

"Uh, thanks?" Derek replied, a little uncertain, but shook Danny's offered hand firmly.

"Oh, it's all good, I promise. Somewhat skimpy on the details, which is unusual for motormouth Stilinski, but I can see why. You're hot; I wouldn't want to kiss and tell either," Danny said with a wink.

"God, Danny, you're even more embarrassing than my dad. Go inside before I think of something horrible to do to you."

"Good try, Stilinski, but we both know you'd never do anything horrible to me," Danny said, laughing as he reached over to ruffle Stiles' hair before going over to the bowls club. "See you soon, Derek!" he called over his shoulder.

"Oh, god. I've changed my mind. Let's go back to your place. We'll do more of the dirty talking. Or start _Lord of the Rings_. Or just pretend that the last five minutes never happened?" Stiles groaned against Derek's shoulder.

"We promised to meet friends, and we've told Laura about it, so we _have_ to do it now. Trust me on this: you do not want to disappoint Laura. It's worse than disappointing a parent."

"How is disappointing Laura _worse_ than disappointing a parent?" Stiles asked, frowning.

"Because Laura's somehow got the whole _I'm disappointed in you and expected better_ look down packed, even though she's not a parent, and as my sister, she also has the right to Chinese burn the hell out of my arms. Trust me, it's worse."

"All right. We'll go in there, we won't disappoint Laura, and we'll be Chinese-burn free, yeah?"

"Hopefully. Allison looks ready to go inside now."

"Mmm. You sure you're ready for this?" Stiles asked, voice serious and quiet as he looked at Derek, searching for something.

Derek linked their fingers together and brought Stiles' hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles gently. "As ready as I'll ever be. What about you?"

"Born ready, babe," Stiles replied, grinning.

"You're planning on killing me with that pet name, aren't you?" Derek groaned.

"Of course not. I need you _and_ Big Derek for the sexytimes. I'm planning on having lots of sexytimes with you; multiple times in multiple positions," Stiles said, winking before he led Derek over to the building's entrance, Allison waiting on them at the front door.

" _Definitely_ planning on killing me," Derek muttered under his breath.

"Everything all right?" Allison asked, looking between them with a slight frown.

"Peachy," Stiles said with a bright grin. "Hey, do you know how to play bowls? 'Cause I'm pretty sure only Lydia knows how to play, so we need someone on our team to make us look like we don't suck completely. Besides, we need an even number for the teams, and you'll make ten."

"I... I guess I can try. Keep up with my persona of being here as Derek's friend," she added with a quick nod, as if confirming with herself.

"Sure thing, Ally. C'mon, this way," Stiles said, nodding towards the lawn bowls building where their friends were waiting.

Allison frowned slightly at the nickname, but followed after Stiles and Derek anyway.

It seemed as though they were the last three to arrive. Erica was already talking with Lydia, Boyd beside her with a drink in hand; Isaac was talking with Scott; Danny was talking with Jackson.

"Hey, Batman! We were wondering how long it'd take for you two to show up!" Erica called, grinning at them in a way that made them both feel as if they'd stopped off for the blow job after all.

"We had to get Allison from the bowling alley," Stiles said, shrugging.

"Who's Allison?" Scott asked, looking between Allison, Stiles, and Derek with a slight frown.

"Friend of Laura's," Derek said.

"She knows how to play bowls, and we need an even number," Stiles added. "Now, Allison, this is my best buddy, Scott. He's training to become a vet 'cause he's all sensitive 'n shit like that. Lydia, the red-haired beauty, is my absolute best girl friend who enjoys dressing me up in clothes that are tight and difficult to breathe in. That's Jackson. Danny's ... well, Danny's awesome 'cause he's the one that first got me a fake ID, let me go with him to _Jungle,_ and he taught me how to dance."

There was a lot of snickering and laughter here, most of it from Stiles himself.

"You almost broke my nose, Stilinski," Danny called out.

"You got sympathy sex from the hottest guy in the bar," Stiles retorted, smirking.

"Touché."

"All right, I think I've got your names. Scott, vet; Lydia, fashionista, obviously; Jackson, uh... Lydia's boyfriend?" Allison guessed, getting a nod in return. "And Danny, just plain awesome?"

Danny laughed. "I'll take that, thanks!"

"Your turn, Derek," Allison said, looking at him with a smile.

Derek nodded, not feeling very confident. He had no idea what Erica, Boyd, and Isaac did in their free time. He hadn't even thought he'd have any friends to invite to this in the first place. Erica had been Stiles' suggestion.

"Erica's one of the best waitresses at my restaurant; Boyd's the nicest security guard I've ever met; and Isaac does amazing things with alcohol at the bar. I, uh, don't have any stories about them," Derek admitted, not looking anyone in the eye.

Stiles turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You'll make some, if you want."

"Holy teeth-rot, Batman; you two are too sweet," Erica cooed, grinning at them.

"You think my drinks are amazing?" Isaac asked brightly.

"Yes," Derek replied with a firm nod. "You're the only one I order cocktails from; I only ever order spirits from anyone else because I'm afraid they'd ruin your drinks."

Isaac smiled and looked like he'd just found a room of puppies.

"Best waitress, huh? Does that mean I get a raise?" Erica asked with a grin.

"Laura and I are working on raises for everyone, actually," Derek admitted.

"We're already above minimum wage," Boyd pointed out.

"No work talk! We've got a game to play!" Lydia called.

"You're the only one that really knows how to play, Lyds!" Stiles called back.

"Allison knows as well," Lydia replied, heading out of the side doors towards the greens.

"Uh, sorry about this, Allison," Stiles muttered as everyone followed Lydia.

"It's all right; I had Siri give me a run down on the game on the way over. It should be enough to get us by," Allison muttered.

"Huh, good idea."

"I do have them sometimes," Allison said with a quick grin.

Stiles grinned back at her, but hung back with Derek as she went ahead. "You okay, babe?"

Derek gave a slight nod. "I'm okay. Glad we're not at the bowling alley," he admitted softly.

"So'm I. Now, we can tell Laura that we've met everyone without lying, so the minute you want to leave, we'll go. Good?"

"Good," Derek murmured, pulling Stiles close to kiss him.

"C'mon, Stilinski; we've got a game to play!" Jackson yelled from outside.

The game wasn't serious by a long shot, despite the look Lydia gave all of them when she organised the teams and explained the rules. They all took a good fifteen minutes to work out how to roll the balls so that they wouldn't go across the green; the two teams had one person too many which made each play slightly longer; Stiles pretended to fall over when he bowled, bending on to one knee and promptly falling to the side; Scott still managed to have some difficulty with bowling the balls despite the practice, and played as if they were ten-pin bowling instead.

Despite the lack of seriousness, both Lydia and Allison seemed to be competing against each other, often standing back to watch the other's bowl. Allison took out the kitty in a strategic move that had both Isaac and Scott hugging her in congratulations, and even Lydia looked impressed.

Halfway through the game, they stopped for more drinks and talking, which is how Isaac and Derek discovered a shared passion for knitting. Stiles kind of stared as his boyfriend discussed purling, crocheting, and a whole bunch of other terms that didn't know or understand. He just wanted to take Derek home, bundle him up in a nest of blankets, and give him hot chocolate because he was so ridiculously cute when he was talking about knitting needles and jumpers that he'd made. Apparently Isaac had only attempted scarves so far, but Derek encouraged him to expand his knitting horizons, and well ... that was just too much for Stiles to handle.

"Hey, babe. Can I steal you for a minute?" Stiles asked, a little breathless as he tugged on Derek's sleeve. His _knitted_ sleeve; _had he knitted that himself? Why the hell was that such a turn on?_

Derek took a moment to remember what _babe_ was code for, blushing, and he nodded quickly, excusing himself from the conversation as he let Stiles guide him away.

"Everything all right?" Derek asked when they were outside.

"Perfect," Stiles said, pressing his body up against Derek's and kissing him as firmly as possible.

"Oh, geez, _fuck_. Stiles..." Derek murmured against his lips, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist to hold him closer.

Stiles kept kissing him, licking into his mouth and biting at his lips, and when he pulled away, he was muttering things like 'hot chocolate' and 'knitting needles' under his breath. Derek was a little confused, to say the least.

"Hey, lovebirds. Or tongue-birds. What the hell, are you actually trying to get Derek's tonsils out with your tongue, Stilinski?"

"Fuck off, Jackson."

"We've got another half a game to play, and Allison took off," Jackson said.

"She did?" Stiles asked, pulling away from Derek, licking his lips.

"Yeah, said something about a family emergency and bolted. I think she took both McCall and Isaac's phone numbers with her," Jackson added, smirking.

"Stiles, are you and Derek still playing bowls, or are we rescheduling for another time with Allison?" Lydia asked, looking out at them, waiting expectantly.

"Reschedule," Derek said quickly, burying his face against Stiles' neck and whispering 'gorgeous' as loud as he dared.

"Y-yeah. Reschedule. Can't play with an uneven team. Bye everyone!" Stiles yelled, grabbing Derek's hand and pulling him back out to the parking lot.

There was an odd chorus of farewells (Derek was positive that Erica wolf-whistled), but Stiles ignored them all. Derek still wasn't exactly certain on what had set Stiles off, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

"Allison's car is still here," Derek murmured, frowning.

"Uh-huh. Take us home so I can give you the handjob of your life," Stiles said, grinning.

"Who's home?" Derek asked, cheeks going red at the thought of Stiles calling _his_ house 'home'.

"Will Laura be at yours?"

"Probably in her own wing, if she is," he said.

"Yours, then. Want to make a mess of your billion-thread sheets," Stiles murmured, rocking his hips up against Derek's.

"O-okay," Derek whimpered, hurrying to unlock the car so they could get home that much quicker.

Stiles kissed him one more time, hot and desperate, but slipped out of his embrace and went over to the passenger side door. He gave Derek a wink, then slid down into the car. Derek had to count to five before he could be confident enough in his ability to drive them home. (He almost veered off the road when Stiles started to palm himself through his trousers.)

Back at the bowls club, Allison finally managed to wrestle her aunt out of the bushes, restrain her arms with a zip tie, and put her in the backseat of her car.

"Gettin' good there, little niece. Almost as good as me," Kate sneered, even as Allison slammed the door in her face.

Turning away from her aunt's smug and wounded expression (how she managed to pull off both at the same time, Allison would never know), Allison took out her phone to ring her parents. They agreed to pick up Kate at another location and get her away from Derek, to protect their client, their family, their reputation, and Kate.

By the time Allison turned back to her car, Kate was gone.

...


	7. Sexy times! (Twelfth date)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wants to celebrate finishing his thesis. Considering it's almost 2am, Derek's not quite as enthusiastic.  
> [Basically, PWP]

_Hey babe. What are you up to?_

 

Derek blinked in confusion at his phone, staring at the time for a few seconds before he comprehended that it was almost 2 in the morning. He let out a small groan and set his phone down, burying his head in his pillow to go back to sleep. It was too early for a booty call. Even if he hadn't had Stiles' booty yet, it was too early now. _Heh, booty._ _Fuck he was_ ** _tired_**.

 

Derek had just started dozing off again when his phone chirped at him to alert him to another message. He contemplated telling Stiles to go to sleep, but then he checked the message and his eyes widened slightly.

 

_Want your cock so bad, babe. So hard thinking about you, Der. Need you & Big Derek ;)_

 

Derek felt his traitorous cock hardening in response to Stiles' text and he groaned again, but for a different reason this time.

 

_Be there soon._

 

Derek slipped out of his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he searched for clothes and shoes. He didn't bother with socks, pulled on his favourite thumb-hole sweater without a shirt, and briefly contemplated trying to find a pair of briefs since he'd only worn his sweatpants to bed. Deciding he couldn't be bothered, Derek shoved his feet into a pair of shoes before leaving his room.

 

He didn't want to wake Laura because he knew that she'd question him endlessly and then tease him mercilessly on top of that, so he snuck out of the kitchen entrance, locking the door behind him before heading over to his Camaro. He left the headlights off as he headed towards the gates, pulling out onto the street once they'd opened and speeding away as they closed again behind him.

 

Stiles grinned at him when he opened the door, putting a finger to his lips before pulling Derek in close to kiss him eagerly. Derek licked his lips as they pulled away, following Stiles through his apartment to his bedroom without a word. Stiles winced as the door squeaked loudly when he closed it behind him, but Scott didn't come out of his room to yell, so he figured they'd be all right. Stiles turned to Derek and grinned again, tugging him close by his gorgeous knitted thumb-hole sweater. (Stiles was discovering so many new kinks, he'd never thought of domesticity as something overly attractive before, but the very idea of Derek being domestic made him weak in the knees.) Derek toed off his sneakers before letting Stiles tug him onto the bed with him, facing each other as they kissed eagerly.

 

"Not that I'm complaining, but why the booty call?" Derek whispered, grinning before he started to kiss and nip against Stiles' neck.

 

"I finished my thesis. Well, the first draft of the re-write, at least. I'm so relieved that I figured could either sleep for three days straight or fuck you and _then_ sleep. I really wanted to see you. I missed you," Stiles murmured, fingers threading through Derek's hair to hold him closer.

 

"Missed you too. Congratulations on finishing," Derek said, grinning and lightly kissing the hickey he'd just created. "You really want to fuck me?"

 

"Yes. Or you could fuck me if you don't want to bottom. I just... I'm versatile with the topping or bottoming, and I just need - "

 

"Fuck me, Stiles," Derek said, thrusting his hips forward so Stiles could feel just how on board he was with that idea.

 

Stiles let out a small whimper and pulled Derek up to kiss him firmly. Derek slipped his hands under Stiles' thin shirt, frowning slightly when he realised how cold Stiles felt.

 

"How long have you been sitting at the computer?" Derek murmured, moving his hands around to warm Stiles' back.

 

"Don't really know now. Too long, I guess," Stiles replied distractedly. "Have I told you how much I love you wearing knitted things?" he murmured, placing biting kisses along Derek's jawline.

 

Derek hummed in agreement, splaying his hands wide under Stiles' shoulder blades and stroking slowly until he felt his skin warm beneath his hands.

 

"What're you doing?" Stiles mumbled.

 

"Warming you up. Do you want me to stop?" he asked, pulling away quickly.

 

Stiles shook his head, leaning back up against Derek's palms. "No, no stopping. It feels good. You feel good," Stiles added in a soft murmur, resting his cheek against Derek's shoulder.

 

Derek almost fell off the bed when he felt Stiles' hand slip into his sweatpants and start fondling his cock firmly, his breath warm against his neck.

 

"Need you out of this," Stiles muttered, biting on his sweater and tugging it up with his teeth.

 

"Yeah, naked is good," Derek agreed, letting go of Stiles reluctantly to pull his sweater off and throw it behind him.

 

Stiles pulled his own shirt off, throwing it in the same direction as Derek's sweater, then licked his lips as he looked at Derek, following the lines of his broad chest and soft hair down his body, until he could see the outline of Derek's thick cock in his sweatpants.

 

"Can't wait for you to fill me," Derek groaned, pupils blown wide as he took in Stiles' lithe form. "God, you're so gorgeous. I can't believe I get to have you," he murmured, words almost broken as he caressed Stiles' body gently.

 

" _You_ can't believe it? You're practically a Greek god compared to me. Michelangelo would've carved Derek, not David, if he'd seen you," Stiles muttered, touching a bicep just because he could.

 

Derek blushed and shook his head slightly, moving to push his sweatpants down. Stiles stopped him with a sound of urgency, grabbing his wrist and moving it aside.

 

"Let me, babe. I've been thinking about doing this for weeks."

 

"Weeks?" Derek asked breathlessly, watching as Stiles honed in on his sweatpants with a single-minded determination.

 

Stiles made a noise of agreement, then licked his lips as he gently tugged Derek's sweats down. His cock was already hardening, and it hit his stomach when Stiles released it from its confines. Stiles made a soft noise, sounding almost reverent as he stroked Derek's cock gently before he pushed Derek back onto the mattress. Derek watched breathlessly as Stiles ducked his head, mouthing at his cock eagerly, and he was so glad he hadn't spared the time to find his briefs. Stiles didn't waste any time in starting to stroke and suck at him, and Derek found he couldn't hold back from trying to lift his hips and fuck up into Stiles' mouth, Stiles' fist, anything he could give him.

 

"Not yet, babe. I want to fuck you first," Stiles murmured as he pulled away, a string of spit following. He wiped it off on the back of his hand quickly.

 

"Lube?" Derek asked, chest heaving.

 

Stiles licked his lips and leaned over Derek to get the bottle of lube out from under his spare pillow. He pecked a kiss on Derek's lips, and Derek held him close to deepen the kiss until they were both softly panting.

 

"Pants off," Derek breathed, tugging at Stiles' pants firmly.

 

Stiles agreed with a breathless noise, helping Derek pull his pants off until he's as naked as Derek. The room was dark, the only light coming from the full moon outside, but Derek took a moment to drink his fill of Stiles, to see as much of him as he possibly could. He wondered what Stiles could see on his face, because Stiles blushed and shook his head wordlessly.

 

Derek smiled and pressed a kiss to Stiles' mouth, drawing him close and Stiles followed him down onto the bed with a soft sigh against his lips. They kiss languidly for a few moments, Derek touching and stroking as much of Stiles' body as he could reach, then Stiles shifted so their hips were pressed up against each other, and Derek couldn't stop the groan that filtered out. He heard the bottle cap opening, a squirt of lube, and Stiles cool wet fingers pressed against his rim a moment later. Silence reigned as Stiles eased the tip of one finger into him ever so slowly, Derek wanting to moan and cry out but all too aware of Stiles' roommate only a wall or two away. Stiles looked at him, grinning as though he knew Derek's dilemma, and slipped his lubed finger in further, crooking it slightly, _daring_ him to cry out.

 

"F-fuck, Stiles."

 

"Mm?" he murmured, crooking his finger again.

 

"Nghh."

 

Stiles laughed against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the curve of his warm skin before continuing with his ministrations. Derek had to stop touching Stiles, just so he could bite down onto his own fist to stop from screaming out Stiles' name and _begging_. Stiles slid in a second finger, just as slow as the first, and Derek lifted his hips desperately for more. Stiles manoeuvred them so that Derek's hips rested on his thighs, and with his now-free hand, started to stroke Derek's hard cock. He almost came right then and there, with two of Stiles' fingers buried in his ass and his other hand curled around his leaking cock, firm and _wanting_ with every stroke. Derek didn't think he'd ever been wanted as much as Stiles seemed to want him in that moment; people had lusted after him before, but this was nothing like that, and Stiles was nothing like them.

 

"Fuck, please!"

 

"What was that, babe?" Stiles asked, licking his lips.

 

"F-fuck me," Derek breathed, begged, asked.

 

"Almost ready. Patience favours the... wait, that's wrong. Still, patience is needed, just a little longer," Stiles said with a wink.

 

Derek couldn't reply, couldn't speak, because then Stiles slid three of his fingers slid into his ass and words just didn't seem to matter anymore. He whimpered, made soft needy noises, his voice a high-pitched symphony of breathless want and lust and need, and still, Stiles continued to fuck him with firm and controlled strokes, three fingers wide.

 

Just when Derek thought he'd orgasm, desperate with the need for it, Stiles pulled his fingers out completely. Derek let out a noise that had him covering his own face in utter embarrassment, but Stiles tugged his hands away gently and kissed him.

 

"Don't ever be embarrassed about this, babe. I like hearing your noises; sounds like they're all just for me," Stiles murmured against his lips.

 

Derek was still blushing, but he didn't feel quite so bad when he let out an absolutely _filthy_ moan as Stiles' condom-covered cock slid into him, replacing his fingers with a slight stretch.

 

"That's it, babe. You're doing so good for me," Stiles murmured, stroking Derek's hair as they both adjusted to the feel of his cock inside of Derek.

 

Derek clung to Stiles' hips firmly, trying to drag him closer, but Stiles was surprisingly strong and stayed where he was, tucked up against the back of Derek's thighs as Derek's legs wrapped around his hips.

 

"Not yet. Remember what I said about patience?" Stiles teased, grinning.

 

Derek let out a growl - an actual, real life _growl_ \- but Stiles just grinned wider still.

 

"You don't scare me," he proclaimed, moving forward to kiss Derek again.

 

Before Derek could form words to reply - and he was going to make actual words this time, honest! - Stiles grabbed Derek's hips and pulled _him_ closer instead before resting up on his knees and thrusting his hips forward. Whatever Derek had been about to say was completely lost as his mind honed in and focused on one thing entirely: pleasure.

 

He had no idea of the noises or pleas he was making, nor what Stiles said in return, but Derek could have detailed every hitched breath, every squeeze of fingertips against his skin, the way it felt as Stiles' let go of one of his hips to reach up to grab his hand and thread their fingers together. He could have written entire ballads about the way Stiles looked down at him and bit his lip, the way he seemed to make every movement just to see and revel in Derek's response. Derek's eyes fluttered closed even as he desperately tried to keep them open to keep watching Stiles watching him, but his eyelids were too heavy, the emotion was too much, and he couldn't stop from arching his back completely, tilting his head away from Stiles as he came hard and hot between them.

 

He felt as though he was floating, descending down through the thick haze of clouds, and Derek only vaguely noticed as Stiles came as well, fingers digging into his shoulders firmly. He was starting to come back to himself when Stiles pulled out slowly, taking off the condom and throwing it with a practiced arm towards the bin. Stiles murmured something to Derek that he didn't quite hear, but then he reached over him to grab tissues, cleaning at his stomach, abs, and chest gently. By the time Stiles had thrown the used tissues into the bin as well, Derek felt as though he might be able to speak once more, and he looked at Stiles with a big smile.

 

"You look so proud of yourself," Stiles murmured, grinning back down at him. "And so you should," he added, moving so he was lying beside Derek before he curled up around his body. "You were amazing, babe."

 

"Mmm, you too," Derek said, voice thick and a little hoarse.

 

Stiles pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, then reached down awkwardly to grab the blanket, trying not to elbow Derek in the face at the same time.

 

"I'll make waffles in the morning," Stiles promised sleepily. "It's in the post-sex rule book," he added with a yawn. Then he blinked and shuddered violently, almost shoving Derek out of the bed completely.

 

"What?" Derek asked, confused and alarmed by Stiles' reaction.

 

"I just ruined Shrek. Oh. Nope, not thinking about it. At all, nope, nope, nope," he groaned, burying his head into the crook of Derek's neck. "Think happy sexy thoughts."

 

Derek could hear Stiles still repeating his mantra a few minutes later, and before his own sex-filled and exhausted brain could think it through, he smacked Stiles on the ass.

 

"Ow, what was that for?!" Stiles hissed, somewhere between intrigued and pained.

 

"To stop you thinking. Now sleep."

 

"Gonna think about you spanking me now. If you wake up with my dick digging into your thigh, it's your own fault," Stiles muttered.

 

"I'll spank you later," Derek said sleepily, tugging Stiles' closer and falling asleep within seconds.

 

"Gonna hold you to that, big guy," Stiles mumbled, kissing Derek once more before he fell asleep as well.

 

...

 


	8. Morning after. Peter's visit

Stiles blinked his way awake, squinting groggily at the time on his phone. He groaned when he saw that it was practically lunch time, and was tempted to curl up and continue sleeping. He froze when he realised that he'd texted Derek last night, and Derek had come over, and he'd _fucked_ Derek. _Oh, fuck, that had been_ ** _amazing_**.

Blushing slightly at the memory, Stiles texted off a quick message to Derek, thanking him for the night and to tell him that he was amazing. He immediately heard a loud message tone beeping outside of his room and sat up quickly. Stiles' bedroom door opened a few seconds later and Derek grinned in at him.

"You thought I'd left?" Derek asked. "Should I take breakfast back then?"

"Breakfast?" Stiles asked, getting out of bed quickly.

"Not quite waffles, but I never promised them," Derek said, eyebrows raising.

Stiles stepped forward, but Derek shook his head.

"Clothes first," Derek added, throwing a shirt and a pair of boxers towards him.

By the time Stiles got the clothes from his face, Derek had left again. He hurried to pull the clothes on, not caring that the shirt was actually Derek's. Making his way out to the kitchen, Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's neck when he saw coffee and bagels waiting for him.

"So you think I'm amazing?" Derek asked, nodding to his phone.

"Sex and breakfast? _Definitely_."

"Well, it's technically lunch."

"It's not 12 yet, so _technically_ , it's brunch," Stiles pointed out.

"Mmm, that works," Derek murmured, sipping at his coffee. "You really thought I was amazing in bed?" he asked, his cheeks pink.

"Yes, I really do think that," Stiles replied, smiling. He had a big bite of his bagel, then nudged Derek's ribs with his elbow. "Do I get a performance review too?"

"You want one?" Derek asked, finishing the last bite of his bagel.

"Yep!"

"Finish your brunch first."

Stiles was curious enough to practically inhale the rest of his coffee and bagel. Once he had finished swallowing, he looked at Derek expectantly.

Derek calmly swallowed the last of his coffee, collected their plates and mugs to put in the sink, and by the time he turned around, Stiles was practically jumping up on the balls of his feet in excitement. Derek bit back a grin, and crooked his eyebrow instead.

Stiles stopped bouncing and gave a slight pout. "I've never had my sex critiqued before."

"You mean no one's told you how amazing you are?" Derek asked in surprise.

Stiles shook his head and shrugged.

Derek frowned; how could anyone have sex like that and not want to say how amazing it was?

He took Stiles' hand, led him out to the bedroom and sat on the bed, pulling Stiles onto his lap.

" _Dear Santa_..."

"I _will_ go through with my threat of spanking you," Derek threatened.

"Mmm. Promise?" Stiles asked, smirking as he wiggled his ass against Derek's crotch, and not just to get comfortable.

Derek grabbed his hips firmly, stilling his motion, and kissed him into submission. Stiles grinned against his lips, Derek's hold tightening as Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck. They pulled away to breathe, Stiles resting his forehead against Derek's, his eyes closed and breath warm against his cheek.

"I think we can skip the critique, don't you?" Stiles murmured, hips rolling forward to press up against Derek tantalisingly.

Derek wanted so very desperately to agree with Stiles, to avoid talking and skip straight to _doing_ , but he remembered Stiles' excitement and his resignation that no one had ever told him how amazing he was. Gathering up his courage, Derek resolved to do that for Stiles because he deserved every ounce of praise, of worship, that Derek could bestow upon him.

Before he could say a word, they both heard a phone ringing loudly. The chorus for _Single Ladies_ , in fact, and Stiles frowned.

"That's not my phone. You?"

Derek shook his head, but they both looked to where their phones were lying on the floor, and he saw that his phone was ringing. He groaned on seeing the caller ID and reached for the phone, Stiles standing and taking his warmth and kisses with him.

"When exactly did you change your ringtone in my phone?"

"Is that any way to greet your favourite uncle?"

"You're my only uncle, Peter, and yet, you're still not my favourite."

"That hurts me, dear nephew. Truly, it does."

Derek sighed and ran a hand over his face, wishing that he hadn't picked up the phone after all. "What do you want?"

"Nothing! I'm coming to town next week and thought I'd drop by to see you. Can't I visit my favourite nephew and niece?"

"No, you honestly can't," Derek muttered, thinking of what had happened the last time Peter had visited; there had been loan sharks and it had cost him a substantial amount _more_ than a pretty penny to get rid of both the loan shark _and_ his uncle.

"Well, I'm dropping by anyway. I'll be by around 8pm next Saturday, why don't you make something nice for us? As I'm your favourite uncle, you obviously remember my favourite food, don't you?"

Peter didn't seem to need a reply, as he hung up without another word, and Derek flopped back onto the mattress, hands covering his face.

"That bad, huh?" Stiles asked, standing in the corner of his bedroom and trying to look as though he hadn't listened to every word Derek had said, wondering what was being said on the other end of the line.

"My uncle's coming to town next weekend."

"You have an uncle?"

"Yeah. Peter looked after Laura and I when we were younger," Derek replied, sitting up again.

"How haven't I met your uncle yet?" Stiles asked, frowning.

"He travels a lot," he said, shrugging.

"So it's good that he's coming next weekend and you get to catch up, right?"

"I guess. He usually ends up having a party at my house and leaves the rubbish for me to clean up. Or he borrows money. Sometimes both," Derek admitted. "I'd better call Laura to let her know; she'll want to hide the valuables."

Stiles' eyes widened slightly. "You mean he steals from you?"

"He tries. Laura practically tips him upside down before he leaves."

"Right. Your security detail probably wouldn't be too pleased about a party, would they?"

Derek gave a nod and shrug. "Probably not, but Peter's very difficult to control."

"Well, I'd better let you make your call to Laura in peace," Stiles said, trying to give him a smile before he left his bedroom.

Derek sighed and rang Laura to tell her the news.

To say that Laura wasn't happy was an understatement. Derek held the phone away from his ear as Laura ranted about their uncle and his last-minute visits. Then, just as she was complaining about something, Laura cut off suddenly. Derek frowned at his phone, but saw the call was still connected.

"Hello? Laura, you still there?"

"We'll have a dinner party; that'll keep Peter inside, and even he won't lower himself to ruin a dinner party by inviting half of BHU's student list."

"It wasn't _half_ of Beacon Hills University - "

"Don't under-exaggerate, Derek; it was _at least_ half," Laura sniped. "You can invite Stiles; I'm sure Peter will be on his very best behaviour then."

"What?"

"It's the only way all three of us Hales will survive the weekend without a homicide on someone's part. Probably mine," Laura added. "Please, Der-bear?"

Derek winced at the pet-name. "I'll ask. He might say no."

"You're right; I'd better ask then."

"What? No, I'll do it."

"Too bad, calling him now," Laura sing-songed.

"How? You're using your phone to call me," Derek said.

"We have a house phone, dork."

Derek didn't believe her until he heard Stiles' phone start ringing.

"Oh my god, I'll ask. Just hang up," Derek hissed.

"Nonsense, little brother. If I ask, then he's obliged. If you ask, then he's allowed to say no. You don't want to end this family reunion with someone on a manslaughter charge, do you?"

"Manslaughter? Premeditated, by the sounds of it," Derek scoffed.

"Uh, Derek? Mind if I get my phone?" Stiles asked, looking into the room.

"It's Laura calling to ask you if you want to come to a dinner party next weekend so she won't kill Peter."

Stiles blinked at the rush of words, and as if to prove Derek's point, his phone stopped ringing. Laura muttered about him being a spoil-sport, but Derek ignored her.

"You can say no," Derek added, quickly hanging up on his sister.

"I'll go, if only to provide someone's alibi," Stiles said, grinning. Then his grin faded. "What do I wear to a dinner party?"

Derek grinned and pulled Stiles close to kiss him. "Whatever you like."

They spent the rest of the day lounging about in bed. Derek finally fulfilled his promise to critique Stiles' performance, and Stiles tackled Derek onto the bed before he was even halfway through, lust in his eyes. They spent the rest of the evening in bed as well.

...

Stiles was a little nervous about meeting Peter. He had very little information to go on - Google didn't help since he had no idea what Peter Hale looked like and after coming across a few nude photos (neither artistic nor classy) of someone with the same name, Stiles was somewhat scarred. He almost regretted agreeing to go to the dinner party.

But since his supervisor _finally_ accepted his thesis, and he was already showered, dressed, and starting to get kind of hungry, Stiles ended up leaving for Derek's home almost an hour early. He stopped off to buy a wine, since that's what people supposedly brought along for adult dinner parties, and yes, he was an adult, thank you very much.

Stiles ended up arriving half an hour early. He then spent the walk from his Jeep to the front door berating himself for not finding another suit to wear, and hoping like hell that Derek wouldn't notice it was the same suit he'd worn to their first date. _He was wearing a different shirt; surely that was acceptable?_

Stiles pressed the doorbell and waited, shoving his hands in his pocket. That motion made Stiles realise that he'd left the wine bottle in his Jeep, and he ran back to get it. He made it back to the door just as it closed, and pressed the doorbell again, doubled over to catch his breath. As he breathed, Stiles wondered if wine was still okay if it'd been shaken up from running.

" - a small loan for the man who raised you... Oh, there is someone here this time."

Stiles straightened at the unfamiliar voice, ignoring the stitch in his side. Derek was standing in the doorway, a shorter, fairer, older man standing beside him wearing a ridiculously low V-neck.

"Sorry, forgot the bottle of wine," Stiles said, still a bit winded. "Hi," he added, smiling at Derek.

"Hi, Stiles. Peter, take this to the kitchen, would you?" Derek asked, handing the wine bottle to him.

"You're not even going to introduce me?" Peter asked, offended.

"No," Derek answered shortly, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. "Hi."

"Didn't we already say that part?" Stiles asked with a grin. "Everything okay?"

Derek nodded briefly, then dipped his head to kiss him. "I'm glad you're here."

"So am I, if I get greeted like that," Stiles murmured against Derek's lips. "Laura hasn't killed anyone yet, has she?"

"She managed to hold off on the threats for about twenty minutes. That's a personal best for her," Derek said.

"I suppose we'd better go inside before she follows through on the threats?"

Derek shook his head and then kissed Stiles again. "We can wait out here a little longer."

Stiles grinned and tugged Derek in closer still, agreeing with him completely.

...

"... couldn't possibly need that much! You weaselled more than enough out of him last time," Laura snapped at her uncle.

"Tut-tut, dear niece. Mustn't be rude in front of our guest," Peter reprimanded lightly, taking up his glass of wine and smiling over at Stiles. "I'm glad you finally made it inside; I was about to send out a search party for you both. Derek, introduce us."

"Uncle Peter, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is my uncle, Peter," Derek introduced dutifully.

Stiles wanted to shudder in revulsion at the once-over Peter obviously gave him.

"An absolute _pleasure_ to meet you, my dear boy. Derek, he's gorgeous and obviously out of your league; wherever did you find him?" Peter asked, looking between them as he sipped at his wine again.

Stiles squeezed Derek's hand, half in support, and the other half a mix of disgust and anger on Derek's behalf.

"We met online," Derek said, refusing to blush or be embarrassed by his uncle's behaviour.

"How... _modern_ of you, Derek. I didn't know you knew how to use a computer for those sorts of things," Peter said with a ghost of a smile. "Now Stiles, I must know _everything_ about you. What sort of work do you do?" he asked, no hint of friendliness in his tone.

"I, uh... I don't have a job at the moment. I'm a grad student; I just finished my thesis," he added, a little defensively at Peter's raised eyebrow and expression.

"Of course you did."

"Peter. Why don't you go get another bottle of wine? This one's not chilled," Laura said.

Peter gave a slight nod, though he looked smug as he left.

"You remember what happened the last time we let him in the wine cellar?" Derek muttered.

"Yes, which is why I sent him there. If he gets locked in again, it's his own fault. Besides, I hid all of the good wines."

"You know he's like a hound with those things, Laur. He'll probably turn the cellar upside down just to find the best wine possible," Derek said, shaking his head.

"Then he'll drink it all and bring up a cheap bottle for us instead," she added, rolling her eyes.

Stiles wanted to laugh at the joke, but neither sibling seemed inclined to laugh, and he wondered if it had happened before. Considering it took Peter almost twenty whole minutes to return from the cellar with a bottle, Stiles figured it must have.

The pleasant conversation they'd been having died off as Peter returned to the room, and Stiles felt his skin crawl as Peter moved past his chair, his body far too close considering how much room he had to walk.

"I hope this one suits your tastes, dearest niece. I hope you don't mind, but I had a few samples myself."

"Of course you did, Uncle," Laura said, jaw tight.

"Now, now, what sort of response is that for the man who raised you?"

"You _didn't_ raise us! Mum and Dad raised us! You just looked after us and then bitched at every opportunity how expensive it was to keep us fed and clothed and schooled! You had absolutely _no say_ in how we were raised!" Laura snapped, standing. "Sorry for this, Stiles. It's..." she cut off with a sigh, unable to form the words properly. Then she turned back to her uncle. "Peter, just get your things and _leave_. Since you're probably drunk off your _samples_ , we'll get you a taxi to your hotel."

"Well. This is a nice welcome back for your dear old uncle, isn't it? To think, I was actually planning on sticking around this time. I hoped we might bond."

"You stay the fuck away from our bonds. And shares, and whatever else you want to stick your greedy little hands into! And as for actual family bonding, you're about 20 years too late on that!" Laura snapped.

Feeling awkward as fuck, Stiles quietly excused himself and left the room, edging along the wall and wishing he could melt into it completely. He spent a few minutes in the bathroom closest to the dining room (as well as the entrance, in case he needed to make a quick escape; he thought Laura had been _joking_ about the whole homicide thing!), listening for Laura's shouts and Peter's slimy responses. It was obvious Peter was trying to make Derek and Laura take pity on him, but Peter's fake mask and far too fake words only made Stiles feel nauseous.

Finally, Laura seemed to stop shouting, and Stiles looked out of the bathroom, hoping it was all over. They hadn't even eaten the main course yet.

" - take it and go. It's all I've got on me. The taxi will be here soon. Laura will cool down after a few days, okay?" Derek murmured to Peter, shoving a thick wad of cash into his waiting hand.

"I hope so, dear nephew. It's so difficult to deal with this kind of emotional blow from such a beloved family member," Peter said. Despite being shorter than Derek, Peter somehow managed to look over his nephew's shoulder and straight at Stiles where he was hiding in the bathroom, and he smirked. "Thank you for your generosity, Derek. I might take a holiday to recover."

Outside the gates, the taxi beeped its horn loudly and Peter picked up his bag, shouldered it and left without looking back. _Or saying goodbye_ , Stiles realised. _What an asshole_.

"You can come out of hiding now, Stiles. The evil greasy man is gone," Laura called from the dining room.

"I'm not hiding! I was using the bathroom!" he called back, making a show of flushing the toilet and washing his hands noisily.

Laura didn't look as though she believed him, but she did hug him firmly when he came back into the dining room. "I am sorry about that, Stiles. I honestly thought I'd be okay if others were here."

"You weren't okay when half of BHU were here, why'd you think it'd be any different with Stiles?" Derek pointed out, trying hard not to grin.

"Shut up," Laura muttered. "Now, I don't know about you, but I say this dinner party needs a few boxes of pizza. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me," Stiles said, immediately feeling better at the thought of eating pizza and garlic bread ... in his one and only suit. _Shit_. Ah well, surely Derek and Laura had a towel that he could borrow to protect his suit.

"Fine, but you're paying; I don't have any cash on me," Derek said.

Laura stilled and frowned at her brother. "Why exactly am I paying, Derek? I know for a fact you had almost ten-thousand dollars this afternoon; I checked the safe myself."

Never mind the towel; Stiles was going to have a heart attack in his one and only suit instead.

"You gave your uncle _ten-thousand dollars_?!" he squeaked.

Laura's jaw set firmly and she turned to Derek. "You gave that money to _Peter?!_ "

"He's family, Laura. He needed the money; there's another loan shark - "

" _Another?_ Derek, there was no loan shark in the first place! The guy from last time was a local from Beacon Hills; Peter gave him a hundred dollars to beat him up. Jesus, he's playing you! Peter knows exactly what buttons to push to get you to feel sorry for him, and you fall for it every single time!"

"Ten-thousand dollars," Stiles whispered to himself, still in shock.

He'd had to scrounge up enough money just to pay his electricity bill last month - he'd literally looked under couch cushions for the last nickel - and Derek just _gave_ away ten-thousand dollars because his uncle had visited for the whole of, what, an hour? _If that?_ Stiles' part-time job hadn't even paid that much over a year!

" - uses it as play money in Vegas! There's no debt, no loan sharks; Peter is in want of _nothing_ because you give it all to him without _thinking_ about it!" Laura let out a noise of rage, muttered something about pizza, and left to order the food, letting out a few more displeased noises along the way.

" _Ten-_ ** _thousand_** _dollars_ ," Stiles repeated, a little louder this time, a surge of anger flowing through him because ten-thousand dollars might've paid for treatment for his mother, or her hospital bills, or even her funeral.

Hell, he might've even been able to get new shoes after his mother was gone because a widowed father with medical and funeral bills, and a kid with ADHD who was still testing out different medicines was expensive as fuck. Ten-thousand dollars might've helped instead of him needing to hear 'I'm sorry kid, but there just wasn't enough money for him to get new shoes this pay, so he'd have to be a good boy and wait two weeks for new shoes', while he was sitting there with pinched toes and electrical tape holding his shoes together at the age of seven. Stiles would've thought it a fucking miracle if someone had given them ten-thousand dollars at that age, let alone now, and Derek was giving it away just so his uncle could _gamble_?!

"People are dying from treatable diseases, and kids are going hungry and without shoes for two months, and you're giving away _ten-thousand dollars_ for him to gamble with?! You realise that's someone else's full year wage right there? And the fact that you gave it to him and he didn't even _ask_ , Peter just demanded it! I mean, I get that he helped take care of you and Laura after your parents died, but that doesn't mean you have to pay him whatever he asks whenever he demands it! He was your guardian, and he accepted the responsibility - and cost - of taking care of you! For fuck's sakes, as your legal guardian, he probably _got money_ from the government to help care for you on top of it all!"

"You know nothing about me _or_ my life, and you have no right to voice an opinion about what I do with _my money_ ," Derek snapped, glaring heatedly despite the cold tone to his voice.

Stiles stepped back, feeling as though he'd been sucker-punched. Then he nodded, his jaw tightening, and he refused to break down here and now. "You... You're right. I don't know anything about you, obviously, and I should have no opinion about your money. And if you think that, then I think I have the wrong idea about this relationship."

He wanted to say goodbye, but the words caught in his throat, so Stiles just turned and left. It was only when he was home that Stiles let himself break down into tears, and he couldn't even bring himself to change out of his one and only suit. He collapsed on his bed, curled around a pillow, and pretended he hadn't said a thing.

...

Laura looked at Derek when she returned from ordering the pizzas and changing into comfortable clothes. "Where's Stiles? Derek?" She waved a hand in front of his face when he didn't reply. "Hello? What the hell happened?"

Derek looked away. "Stiles left. I... I think we broke up."

"What the hell? Why?"

"Just leave it alone, Laura!" Derek snapped, leaving to his room, and actually wishing for once in his life that the ache in his chest was due to a panic attack.

 

...


	9. The argument

"Stiles? What's going on?" Scott asked, knocking on his closed door.

 

"Nothin'," Stiles called back, barely lifting his head from his pillow.

 

"Dude, I can hear you crying. What's wrong? Did you watch the new Star Force movie again?"

 

"Star _Wars_ , Scott. You _know_ it's Star Wars!" Stiles called.

 

"Uh huh. I'm coming in; you're dressed, right?"

 

"Dude, since when's that ever bothered us?"

 

A moment of silence came from the other side of Stiles' door.

 

"True enough," Scott said, opening the door and looking in cautiously anyway. "Wait, you're still dressed? What the hell?"

 

"Derek and I had a fight. His uncle's a total douchebag," Stiles muttered into the crook of his arm, glowering at nothing in particular.

 

Scott sat on Stiles' computer chair and rolled over to his bed, plonking his feet directly on top of Stiles' butt. He started kicking his heels on Stiles, mostly because he knew how much it annoyed Stiles, and would probably get his mind off whatever it was _on_ this time. _Maybe he'd said something embarrassing to Derek's uncle? Or maybe he'd brought up that thing about penguins knees that fascinated no one_ except _Stiles?_

 

"Wait, no. _You're_ a douchebag. _He's_ a dickwad who somehow managed to get a shitload of money for absolutely no reason."

 

Scott stopped kicking his feet on Stiles abruptly. "Huh?"

 

Stiles sighed and looked over at Scott. "Derek gave his uncle a shitload of money just to get rid of him."

 

"O-okay. And... You fought because of his uncle? Did he say something?"

 

"Uh, no. We fought because Derek gave his uncle money for no damn reason. I'm talking a year's worth of wages here, it's not like he slipped him a fifty!" he added when Scott just looked at him in confusion.

 

Scott shook his head. "Stiles, remember how pissed you were when Mum tried to get you to save your pocket money? You went and bought that boa instead."

 

"Yeah, but I was 13."

 

"So? You don't even like being told which groceries to buy _now_!"

 

"Is this because of the Red Vines? Because _you know_ Twizzlers taste like a cheap knockoff!"

 

"Stay with me here, Stiles," Scott said, shaking his head. "You hate it when someone tells you how to spend your money; and hypocrisy, oddly enough, isn't one of your faults. Usually, at least."

 

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times. "This is different!" he said, finally.

 

"Why? How is a dollar different than a hundred dollars? It's not your money, and you and Derek haven't got a joint account or something. Wait, you _haven't_ got a joint account, have you?" Scott asked, frowning.

 

"Dude, seriously? I had to borrow money from you for fuel last week," Stiles scoffed.

 

"Right. Then it's not your money and it's not your business how Derek spends it."

 

"But we're dating!"

 

"Oh my god, can you hear yourself? You're one step away from becoming a controlling boyfriend there, Stiles. You know, the kind that your Dad has to sit down and have a discussion with about boundaries, and people's decisions, and how whoever you're dating is not a thing for you to control. Derek's money is his money, it is not yours! If you do get a joint account, then you can talk about how to spend your _combined_ money, but whatever Derek earns is still his own money."

 

Stiles was silent for a few moments after Scott finished his rant, but Scott didn't press him. He knew what Stiles was like, and when faced with the facts, he'd eventually come around.

 

" _Fuck!_ "

 

Scott felt relieved at Stiles' curse, and patted his shoulder. "You can deal with it in the morning when you're both calm and you've slept on it, okay? Just change out of your suit before Lydia's fashion sense starts tingling and we both get into trouble."

 

Stiles nodded reluctantly and sat up. "Thanks, Scott."

 

"No problem, dude. Can I go back to sleep now?"

 

"Yeah. Night."

 

"G'night."

 

Stiles changed out of his suit, hanging it up in his wardrobe and hoping that the creases would disappear by themselves. In his boxers and singlet that comprised of his pyjamas, Stiles crawled back into bed and tried not to think of what an absolute idiot he'd been. He just hoped he could grovel enough in the morning for Derek to forgive him.

 

...

 

"Derek, would you _please_ answer your phone? That's the eighth call in twenty minutes! Or at least put your phone on silent, geez," Laura called.

 

"No," Derek called back, still cocooned under his blanket and refusing to come out, despite the fact that it was almost noon.

 

Laura made her way up to Derek's room, just to glower at him from the doorway. "You're being an idiot. Stiles is obviously calling for an important reason if he's refused to give up yet."

 

"I'm not being an idiot," he replied, his voice muffled by his thick blanket.

 

"Yeah, you kinda are," Laura said.

 

She looked as though she was going to say something else, but Derek's phone started ringing again. She raced into the room, snatched the phone off Derek's bedside table and answered it before he could even get his arm out of the covers.

 

 _Damn her and her first-place 100m sprint_.

 

"Derek's phone, this is Laura."

 

"Uh. Hey, Laura. It's... It's Stiles. Is Derek there? I mean, he's gotta be there, or why else would you be answering his phone, right? Unless something's happened? Has something happened? Did Peter try to steal his kidney for more money or something?"

 

"He's fine. Though you've got a lot of nerve calling after breaking up with my brother."

 

"Breaking up? We... we didn't break up. We're just having an argument! Did Derek say we broke up? Wait, did _he_ break up with me? Why didn't he tell me? I wouldn't have called a billion times if I'd known. Well, actually - "

 

Laura stopped listening to Stiles' ranting, turned, and glared down at her brother. "Stiles, call back in fifteen minutes, okay? I need to talk to my idiot brother."

 

"Um. All right? But... Can you just tell him I'm sorry? I mean, I'll say it to him again, obviously, but just so you know too: I really am sorry, I was a dick, and how Derek spends his money has nothing to do with me. I mean, I'm not going off telling Bill Gates how to spend his money, so - "

 

"I'm hanging up on you, Stiles. Fifteen minutes, okay?" Laura said, ending the call before he could go on another rant.

 

Derek was sitting up now and glaring at her fiercely. Laura returned the glare with all the ferocity of an older sister, and Derek shrank back slightly.

 

"Derek, I love you, but for fuck's sakes, you can be such an idiot sometimes! Stiles never broke up with you; you're just having a really dumb argument."

 

"W-what?"

 

Laura looked up to the ceiling, inhaling deeply before looking at her idiot of a brother again. "Just because you argue with someone, it doesn't mean you've automatically broken up. Did Stiles actually say the words 'we're over' or 'I'm breaking up with you'?"

 

Derek bit his lip, thinking back and replaying the night before, just as he'd been doing ever since it happened. "Uh. No. Not in so many words, but - "

 

"No! No buts, this argument is getting sorted out, you're going to make up - or break up, whatever you decide is best for both of you - and then you're ordering lunch for us because I'm hungry and there's no food in the fridge." Laura's expression softened at her brother's perplexed face. "Stiles said he was sorry, and he sounded genuine about it, even with the thing about Bill Gates."

 

"What?" Derek asked with a frown, confused beyond belief.

 

"I'm sure he'll repeat it," Laura said, shaking her head. "It's your first argument as a couple, and considering you've been dating for almost five months, that's not bad."

 

"Yeah?" Derek asked, sounding a mix of surprised and confused.

 

"One of my relationships lasted a week, remember?"

 

"That guy thought Trump's wall was a good idea; he was an idiot."

 

"That's not the point, Der-bear," Laura said. "Sometimes it can be good to argue with a person because then you find out what kind of person they truly are." She thumbed through a few things on Derek's phone, then threw it to him.

 

Derek fumbled to catch it, and frowned when he saw their mobile security app open. "What's this?"

 

"I turned the interior cameras on yesterday before Peter arrived to make sure he didn't steal anything; your argument with Stiles will be on there."

 

Derek felt himself tense up at the cameras being on. He hated the things and sometimes wished he'd never let Laura convince him they were necessary.

 

"Now, Stiles will call back in about ten minutes, so that should be enough time for you to go over what happened, instead of what you _thought_ happened.

 

"In the meantime, I have to get our Rembrandt back. I didn't think Peter would find it," she muttered, shaking her head.

 

Derek was only partially distracted at the fact that Peter had stolen a painting from them; it had to be the smaller Rembrandt, since he'd only brought a small duffel bag. He sighed, looked at his phone where the video was still waiting, and pressed play.

 

The argument hadn't even lasted a full five minutes, though Derek was sure it felt as long as an hour, and he flinched at the tone in his own voice, the acerbic tone in Stiles' voice. Watching it back now, properly and without his own brain distorting the memory, he could see the emotions as they filtered across Stiles' face: shock, anger, guilt, pain. As he listened to the words again, Derek could hear the sincerity in what Stiles was saying, about people dying, about kids going hungry and without the basic necessities.

 

Derek knew that Stiles' mother had died when he was young, and while he and Laura had their parents die when they were young as well, they'd had their inheritance. Others in their circumstance wouldn't have been as financially sound as they had been. He felt sick as he wondered what Stiles would have used the money on; probably food, or paying his student loan, or something else that would help him survive another month, not just blow it all on a weekend in Vegas like Peter was sure to do.

 

His phone rang a minute later, and this time, Derek answered.

 

"I know it's only been fourteen minutes, but I couldn't wait any longer, and... Wait, is this Laura or Derek?" Stiles asked.

 

"It's me."

 

"Oh, good. Hi. I... I'm sorry, Derek. I was an absolute dick, and I shouldn't have gone off at you like that. It's your money and I have nothing to do with it. I just... It's no excuse, but it was a shock. I really am sorry for saying anything about your money; it's yours and you have every right to spend it however you want," Stiles finished, a bit breathless.

 

"I accept your apology, Stiles. But..."

 

"But?" Stiles echoed, a little panicked.

 

"But you were right: I shouldn't have given Peter the money," Derek admitted. "Others could have used it more than him, and they would have used it wisely too. I... I'm sorry, too."

 

Stiles breathed shakily on the other end of the phone, and Derek wondered if he'd said something wrong.

 

"Apology definitely accepted. I promise not to make any comments about your money again, okay?"

 

"Okay. Uh, are we... Laura said we weren't broken up," Derek said, wincing even as the words left his mouth.

 

Stiles gave a small disbelieving snort. "Trust me, if we'd broken up, you'd know about it. I would've said the actual words, for one."

 

"Oh," Derek said, feeling ridiculously relieved. "Can we... Can I come over so we can talk some more? I just... I kind of want to hug you."

 

"That sounds pretty perfect to me. Scott's here, but we can just ignore him," Stiles said, laughing as Scott made an indignant noise in the background.

 

Derek realised he still hadn't even left his bed, hadn't showered, and hadn't eaten either. "Give me an hour?"

 

"Okay. See you then," Stiles said, hanging up and running out of his room to tidy up.

 

...

 

Derek arrived at Stiles' place an hour and ten minutes later, having showered, dressed, eaten, and endured Laura's teasing.

 

Stiles greeted him at the door, hugging him before they could even say hello, and Derek felt better all at once.

 

"Sorry."

 

"So'm I. I was an idiot, and I try _not_ to be an idiot most of the time, but some things just trigger idiotic responses, I guess," Stiles sighed against his shoulder.

 

"You're not the only one," Derek replied.

 

"Uh, guys? You going to get out of the doorway anytime soon? I've gotta go to work," Scott said.

 

"Thought you had the day off?" Stiles asked, stepping out of Derek's embrace, but taking his hand and tugging him inside, squeezing his hand gently.

 

"Yeah, Mrs. Kibbitch's dog ate a whole box of chocolates while she was out getting groceries. Deaton called me to help out."

 

"Oh, damn. Good luck, Scotty."

 

"Thanks. I'll text you when I'm heading home. Don't have sex in Switzerland," Scott called over his shoulder, Derek blushing pink.

 

"He doesn't mean actual Switzerland, does he?"

 

Stiles looked over at Derek for a moment to gauge his seriousness. Then he shook his head. "Lounge room's been declared Switzerland to avoid stains or wet patches in places where people sit. Or mental scarring, for that matter," he muttered. "I'm tempted to suggest we have sex in there as retaliation, but the mental scarring is real."

 

Derek didn't really know how to respond to that, so he just nodded.

 

Stiles sighed and squeezed Derek's hand again. "Do you still want to cuddle?"

 

"Um... Yes."

 

Smiling broadly at his response, Stiles guided Derek to the lounge room. He paused for a second, then shuddered, and continued on to his bedroom instead. Derek kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the bed after Stiles, tugging him close. Stiles sighed in contentment, clutching at Derek's arm around his waist. They were silent for a few minutes, and unsurprisingly, it was Stiles who broke the silence first.

 

"We're both kind of idiots, y'know?"

 

"Yeah, I know."

 

"But your uncle's still an asshole."

 

Derek snorted. "Yeah, I know that too. In fact, he'd probably agree with you as well."

 

"Then - ugh, nope. Never mind, shutting up."

 

Derek frowned slight and manoeuvred Stiles until he was lying on his back, Derek looking down at him. "What?"

 

Stiles shook his head, lips tight.

 

"Stiles, just ask. I promise we won't fight, okay?"

 

"That's not a promise you can keep, y'know."

 

Derek didn't answer and just waited.

 

"Ugh, fine. Why... Why did you give him the money? Was it obligation, you thinking you owe him? I just don't... I can't understand _why_."

 

Lowering himself back down onto the pillow again, Derek waited until Stiles had shuffled around to face him properly, almost kneeing him in the same motion.

 

"You heard what Laura said about Peter, how he always complained about how hard it was to raise two kids, the expense, all of that?"

 

Stiles nodded slowly, a frown creasing his forehead.

 

"He wasn't always like that. He used to be fun and happy. He travelled everywhere, and he'd bring us these gifts from wherever he went, and he'd actually listen to us, even if he didn't get half of what we were saying. Then, when our parents died..." Derek paused for a moment, trying to keep his hands from trembling, the ache in his chest no less painful than it had been as a teenager.

 

Time didn't heal all wounds, it just scabbed over them until the scab was torn open and the wound bled freely again. Maybe time just made it easier to scab over the wound every time it started to bleed again.

 

Stiles grabbed his hands, startling Derek. They looked at each other for a long moment, the short distance between them seeming to stretch for miles, then Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's knuckles, and just like that, they were mere millimetres from each other again. Derek breathed out shakily, the wound scabbing once more.

 

"After they died, Peter changed. He was... he wasn't cruel, at least, not intentionally, I don't think. But he didn't have time, patience, whatever for two grieving children. His own methods to deal with the grief were drink and travel, and since he couldn't do the latter without taking us along, he did more of the first to make up for it. There were times when he barely recognised us because he was so drunk. He got back on track after a few months, but in that time, Laura just..."

 

Derek tried to think of how to describe what had happened to his older sister. How she'd been a grieving sister one moment, then the next, had turned into a pseudo-mother to take care of them both.

 

"From there on, she raised both of us and she never looked at Peter the same way. She refused to see him as any kind of authority figure, which in turn made him bitter. I was caught in the middle a lot, and rarely said anything to either of them if we were all in the same room together. I actually got dragged into several of their fights for _not_ saying anything. Peter would call me spineless, Laura would defend me and then in the next turn say that I needed to stand up for myself, and I'd just run away as soon as I could.

 

"Then, the day Laura turned 18, Peter started travelling again. He'd be gone for months at a time, and he'd call us every week or so to make sure we hadn't died or stolen anything. Half the time, I think Laura wanted to sell all of his stuff just to piss him off," Derek admitted with a slight grin.

 

"When he was travelling, Peter seemed to be happier, more like his old self. When I started Hale Hath No Fury, he started getting into financial difficulty. At least, that's what he told me. Apparently, he's been lying to me for about ten years..."

 

"I think... I just wanted to see him being his old self again, not the manipulative bastard he is now. Travelling helps that, and money... well, I don't have to think about it much anymore, so I just... don't," Derek said, wincing when he realised how awful that sounded.

 

"I'd give my left nut to not worry about money," Stiles muttered. Then he sighed heavily and pressed a chaste kiss to Derek's lips. "Thanks for explaining. I... I still don't like it, but I get it. I'd probably do the same if it helped my Dad be the same guy I knew back when Mum was alive," he admitted, though he didn't like that either.

 

This time Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' lips, soft and sweet. They kissed gently, both of them asking for forgiveness and granting it at the same time. Stiles pulled away slowly, kissing Derek lightly several times before he opened his eyes again. Derek still had his eyes closed, his lips pink from their kissing, and Stiles couldn't resist giving him one more kiss. Derek tugged Stiles close, wrapping an arm around him as Stiles tucked under his chin, and without really meaning to, they both fell asleep.

 

...

 

Peter's phone rang gaily, the ringtone something twittery and ridiculous. It drew attention from others in the bar, but Peter waited a little longer to answer, just to rile his niece up further.

 

"Why, Laura. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon," he said, as if they were doing nothing more than discussing the weather. "Calling to apologise?" Peter asked.

 

"Bring our Rembrandt back, you asshole," Laura hissed at him.

 

"Hmm. I'll take that as a no, then. I've no idea what Rembrandt you're referring to. Perhaps that young thing of Derek's knows?"

 

"Fuck you, Peter."

 

"My, what crude language. Please do call back when you've acquired some manners," he replied, hanging up on her.

 

Peter smiled over at the bartender, getting the man's attention so he could order another drink. The Rembrandt was already well on its way to its new owner, and the money from its sale could set Peter up for life. Not that Derek needed to know that, of course. He'd quite happily keep playing his role as gambling uncle so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

 

A blonde woman sidled up to him, smiling at him with a mouth full of white teeth, her green eyes glittering in the bar's light. "Hi there."

 

The bartender served Peter his drink, and he took a moment to sip at the scotch, assessing the woman for a moment. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. Peter set his drink down on the coaster and held out a hand to shake. She shook with a firmer grip than he expected, and this time Peter raised an eyebrow at her.

 

"Quite a grip you've got there."

 

"Thanks. I'd bet I can drink you under the table, too," she replied, sweet and mocking.

 

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that. I never drink with strangers. Not without knowing their names first," Peter added pointedly.

 

The blonde looked tempted to roll her eyes, but she waved down the bartender instead and ordered a shot of tequila for herself. "Kate."

 

"Lovely to meet you, Kate. I'm Peter. Now... What should we drink to?" he asked, holding up his glass.

 

She smiled, the movement of her lips almost mocking and sneering, far from anything pleasant. Peter thought he might've seen that exact smile in the mirror before.

 

"The future," Kate declared.

 

"To the future," Peter echoed, sipping at his drink.

 

Kate tipped her head back and drank her shot in one go, unable to stop herself from laughing as it burned on the way down her throat. After months of chasing the younger Hale unsuccessfully, her future was _finally_ starting to look brighter.


	10. Derek's birthday

Too many movies and novels romanticised the life of a private investigator, but as Allison continued her journey through the town's local sewer system, she doubted any of those movies or novels mentioned _this_.

 

Her aunt had long perfected the art of escaping situations using a town's underground tunnelling system, and while she usually came out looking like a model, Allison wasn't quite so lucky. Still, since she knew her aunt's usual hideouts and routes of escape, Allison hoped to find her sooner rather than later.

 

Her mouth covered with a handkerchief, Allison breathed in as deeply as she dared, and continued through the sewer.

 

...

 

"It's a perfect plan; I don't see the problem, Petey."

 

Peter's jaw clenched at the cutesy nickname and he glowered at the blonde. For _that_ more than anything, he wished he'd never met her. "The problem is that my niece is far more paranoid than you seem to realise. She would know something was wrong as soon as I started playing nice with Derek."

 

"She can be taken care of," Kate snapped.

 

"Are you suggesting I murder my own niece?" Peter sneered, eyebrow raised.

 

"Of course not; the police, while grossly incompetent in most states, usually do have a standard procedure of looking at family first, and you would be caught sooner rather than later."

 

Peter looked indignant at her accusation.

 

Kate ignored him and continued talking. "If you organise for _someone else_ to kill her, then you can be out on the town with a hundred witnesses and no one will know it was you."

 

"And I suppose you just happen to know a hitman for hire?" Peter sneered.

 

Kate grinned back at him. "You're looking at her. All you have to do is get me into the Hale mansion and I'll do the rest."

 

...

 

"I said _no_ , Erica," Derek snapped as he answered the phone for the sixth time that morning.

 

"It's not Erica," Stiles said, wondering what had Derek sounding so frustrated at 9am on a Saturday morning.

 

"Oh, Stiles. Hi. I thought... Erica's been calling me all morning. I regret giving her my phone number," Derek said.

 

Stiles grinned. "What's she bugging you about? Not another raise, is it?"

 

"Oh, no, not that. I'd prefer that, to be honest," Derek said, sighing. "It's my birthday next week and she's trying to convince me to throw a party."

 

"Next week?! That's not a lot of time to choose a present, y'know."

 

"Huh?"

 

"I'm not _not_ giving you a present on your birthday," Stiles said.

 

Derek realised with dawning horror that Stiles and Erica would probably gang up on him to have a party. He could resist Erica fine, maybe even Stiles if he really tried, but _both of them?_ He was so screwed.

 

"What kind of party is she suggesting, anyway?"

 

"Some sort of nightclub, I think. I tuned out after the third phone call."

 

Stiles snorted. "While I would pay my last ten dollars to see you dancing in a nightclub, I think that's more Erica's idea of a good time."

 

"Uh, yeah," Derek said distractedly, suddenly thinking of Stiles pressed up against him in the dark of a nightclub, their faces close to each other and -

 

"What do you think?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"You tuned out again, didn't you?" Stiles asked with a laugh. "I was suggesting we have a party at your home instead. It's going to be ridiculously hot next weekend and you have a pool, so that's also an incentive."

 

"How many people?" Derek asked reluctantly.

 

"The same amount of people we had at bowling? And your sister. Unless you want to have more -"

 

"No, that's good. Small is better," Derek added.

 

"All right. I'll let Erica know so she stops bugging you, yeah?" Stiles offered.

 

"Thanks," Derek said in no small amount of relief. "Did you ring for something else?"

 

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out, but now I need to go birthday present shopping, and I think you'll need this weekend to mentally prepare yourself for next weekend, right?"

 

"Uh, yeah, it would be nice. Thanks, Stiles."

 

"No problem-o. When is your actual birthday? You don't have it on Facebook, and I can't send you a ridiculous text unless I know. Although, I could probably send you ridiculous texts for the whole week; I'm bound to get it right at least once."

 

Derek laughed. "It's on Tuesday."

 

"Great. I'm making it on my calendar from now until the end of time." Derek laughed again and Stiles smiled at the sound. "Take care of yourself; I'll text you later, okay?"

 

"Okay. Thanks, Stiles."

 

...

 

Derek was right about Stiles and Erica ganging up, but then they also roped in Laura, so it was _obvious_ they were trying to ruin his life via social interaction. He did as Stiles suggested and spent the weekend mentally preparing himself for the next weekend, and then, halfway through Sunday, Derek realised that a pool party meant seeing Stiles in swimmers. _Or boxers, or - dear god - actual Speedos_.

 

 _What are you wearing?_ Derek sent the text, then winced as he realised the implications.

_To the party next week, I mean._

 

 _Clothes_ , was Stiles' witty reply.

 

 _No, I mean swimmers_.

 

_Uh, board shorts and a swim shirt. Why?_

_Is there some sort of formal swimwear that I don't know about?_

 

 _No, I was just wondering, that's all_.

 

_Are you regretting agreeing to the party already?_

 

_No. I just haven't had a lot of people here since Uncle Peter's last visit._

 

_Lydia will make sure everyone cleans up, don't worry about that! :)_

_If you're feeling overwhelmed, you can sit on a deck chair and pretend to get a tan so you don't have to talk to anyone_

_I can rub sunscreen on you ;)_

 

 _Only if I can return the favour_.

 

_Do you have any allergies?_

 

Okay, that was a weird response. Especially since Derek was at least 90% sure that Stiles had been flirting with him. _Stiles_ ** _was_** _flirting, wasn't he?!_

 

_Uh, not that I'm aware of. Why?_

 

_Cause I'm planning on buying a bulk box of essential oils at the next Costco trip so I can give you a massage_

_Yes, there will be a happy ending ;)_

 

Derek took a moment to Google that in private mode; he didn't want Siri or Apple judging him. His cheeks went pink when he realised what Stiles meant. _They_ ** _were_** _flirting then, good to know_.

 

 _I don't like lavender, it gives me a headache. But I should be fine with other scents_.

 

_In that case I'm buying them all, big guy ;)_

 

 _I'd like to massage you too. I haven't given anyone a massage before_ , Derek admitted.

He breathed in deeply before sending the next message.

_I'd like to give you a happy ending too ;)_

 

There was no response. Derek felt his chest tighten when three whole minutes passed without a response or even the little dots to say Stiles was typing. He forced himself to breathe - _in, two, three, four, five, out, two, three, four, five, six, seven,_ and repeat - even as the most ridiculous scenarios went through his head.

 

_Stiles had been driving and texting, or he'd been stringing Derek along this entire time, or he'd fallen down the stairs, or he was too busy laughing at Derek's awkward attempt at flirting, or..._

 

Derek almost threw his phone when it vibrated with an incoming text. He saw Stiles' name and immediately opened the locked screen, not even focusing on the text itself, his chest expanding and his thoughts retreating below the surface once more.

 

_I'd be honoured to be the recipient of your first ever massage :D whether it ends up with a happy ending or not :)_

_Um, also, I'm kinda horny as fuck right now, babe. Took me a minute to find the lube; it fell under the bed_

 

Derek didn't really know what to say. His thumbs hovered over his phone's keyboard and his mind drew a total blank. Well, it was blank for a response; all he could seem to think of was Stiles' body, his moans and noises, the feel of his skin under him.

 

_Uh, you still there, big guy?_

 

_Yes._

_Just... thinking of you._

 

_Sexy thoughts, right?_

 

Derek nodded, then realised Stiles couldn't see him and typed 'yes' in response.

 

_Good, this would've been so awkward otherwise_

 

Derek wanted to question him, but before he could even start typing, another message came through.

 

It was a photo of Stiles lying back on his bed, shirtless from what Derek could see and possibly naked from what he couldn't see. He was smiling, a light blush high on his cheeks, and Derek felt his heart leap in response. He was probably an idiot, thinking of Stiles' _smile_ instead of his bare body.

 

 _You look gorgeous_ , he managed to type when his brain had finally rebooted and Derek realised that he probably needed to reply.

 

_Feel free to respond in kind_

_Or not, no pressure at all_

_Though I am gonna be thinking of your hands on me; looking forward to the massage already :)_

 

Derek wondered if there were such thing as masseur lessons for people who didn't actually want to become masseurs? _Sexy lessons?_ He had a feeling that Siri and Apple would definitely judge him if he Googled that. _Google would probably judge him, too_.

 

Derek's thumbs hovered over the keyboard again and he faltered. He wanted to reply, to make Stiles feel desired and cherished and wanted, but he didn't know how to put it in words. His past relationships probably hadn't helped in this regard, people wanting him for his body or his money and then when they'd had enough of both, they'd left with the complaint that he didn't communicate or connect with them, when Derek had thought he'd been communicating and connecting just fine.

 

 _Maybe they had a point_ , he thought, looking at the empty message space.

 

 _I don't know how to do this_ , he sent after a long moment of hesitation.

 

_Do what?_

 

_Flirt. Sext? Both?_

_I know what I want to say, but I can't articulate the right words._

 

There was another long pause without a response from Stiles. _He was probably getting sick of dealing with him; he probably wanted someone more experienced, more suave or charming, or who could actually communicate without needing someone to step them through it like they were a child_...

 

_FaceTime?_

 

"Huh?" Derek said aloud, then typed something to that effect.

 

_I want to see your face :) or we could Skype? Or use the Facebook video?_

_If you want to, ofc_

 

Again, Derek surreptitiously Googled 'ofc' - of course. _Right, that made sense_.

 

Derek was pretty sure he'd put FaceTime in a folder on his phone along with other useless apps he'd never use like Tips and News and Find Friends (the latter was kind of depressing, knowing he'd never have a need for it). He went to it now, the black screen not exactly intuitive.

 

_How do I FaceTime with this thing?_

 

 _Hold up, I'll call you_ , Stiles replied.

 

A moment later, Stiles' picture appeared on his screen, requesting to FaceTime with him, and Derek pressed the camera option.

 

"Not that I don't adore the dimple in your chin, but can you put the phone back a bit?" Stiles said, grinning.

 

 _Great, he'd already messed it up somehow_. Derek looked down at his phone in confusion, then saw a small square with his own face. He moved the phone, holding it out until he could see himself properly, then focused on Stiles' face. He was smiling, like his picture had been earlier, though this time he was wearing a shirt.

 

"Hey, big guy."

 

"Hey," he replied, feeling awkward and a little lost.

 

Derek hated video conference calls at the best of times, never sure how his expression looked for the people on the other end. He usually just settled with something that he thought looked professional, but what Laura called 'resting bitch face'.

 

"Wanna talk about it?" Stiles asked.

 

"About what?" Derek asked nervously.

 

"We flirted, I sent you a semi-sexy photo and you said I looked gorgeous, which means you liked what you saw," Stiles said with a wink. "Then we burnt out like a dud firecracker. You said you're having trouble articulating, so I figured we could talk through it instead. If you want to, that is?" he added, looking hesitant now.

 

"Uh, yeah," Derek said, nodding. "I'm not good at flirting. I just... I think I'm flirting but other people don't think that, and then when I'm not flirting and just being nice, they think I'm flirting. I just... it's hard for me to purposely flirt. I've got the words and responses in my head, but they sound fake when I say them. Or write them."

 

"Okay. So what do you usually do if you want to have sex with someone? Like, when you're out at a club or something?" Stiles asked.

 

"I..." Derek's cheeks went red and he shrugged at Stiles' questioning noise. "People usually approach me, not the other way around. If I'm dating them, I just... I take off my shirt; that seems to work without needing the words," he added hurriedly.

 

"All right. What about things you like and want?"

 

Derek didn't really _know_ what he liked and wanted, so he shrugged.

 

"C'mon, big guy, use your words," Stiles said with a friendly grin. "I've been studying your eyebrows for a while now, but I don't think I can have a full conversation with them yet."

 

"Studying my eyebrows?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Stiles grinned again. "They're very expressive. Now, likes and dislikes. You can't really take your shirt off to explain what you want in the bedroom. Can you?" he asked.

 

Derek shook his head. "I don't... I haven't..." he huffed a sigh of irritation at himself, then forced himself to say the words. "I'm not usually comfortable asking for things. In or out of the bedroom," Derek added in a mutter.

 

Stiles bit his lip and Derek wondered what he was thinking about. "When we had sex, did I make you uncomfortable?" Stiles asked, words careful and slow.

 

"No! I... I enjoyed it," Derek replied, and even in his small picture, he could see that his cheeks had turned pink. "I like having sex with you, you... you ask me what I want, like it actually matters."

 

"Of course it does," Stiles replied, blinking at his words, as if he'd never considered doing anything else.

 

Derek shrugged. "No one else has," he admitted.

 

"I know I said I'd let you rest for next weekend, but can I come over? I want to articulate something and I want to do it in person."

 

"Uh, sure. Is everything all right?" Derek asked, not sure what emotion Stiles' expression conveyed.

 

"I'm pissed at every single one of your ex-partners, but apart from that, everything's fine. I'll be there soon, okay?" Stiles said, smiling broadly before he ended the call.

 

Derek looked at his phone as the screen faded to black. Stiles didn't seem angry or upset with him, and he wanted to see him, so that was surely a good thing, right? Still, he couldn't help but feel he'd done something wrong, should have said or done something else, and he lied back on his bed to rethink their conversation.

 

By the third run of their conversation, Stiles had arrived and was ringing the doorbell. Laura answered it, surprised that he was there when Derek had said he was having a break to mentally prepare for his party, but she let Stiles upstairs anyway.

 

"Hey," Stiles said, knocking on Derek's doorframe. "Can I come in?"

 

Derek sat up and nodded. "Sure."

 

Stiles strode into the room and stopped in front of Derek, almost close enough to touch, but still that bit too far. "I practiced this on the way over, so... You're a good person, Derek. You're kind and sweet and wonderful to know, and you deserve every good and happy thing the world can possibly give to one person. That includes in the bedroom. So, please, if you ever want anything from me, or want to do something with me or to me, whatever it is, please just ask me. The worst I can say is no, okay? I won't laugh, I won't be angry, I won't be disappointed or upset. I want you to be happy and comfortable in everything we do together, okay? And your ex-partners are a bunch of dicks who deserve to be sucker-punched," Stiles added, almost vibrating with anger at the way Derek had been treated.

 

 _Using Derek, like he was nothing more than a dick with a human body attached_.

 

Derek didn't really understand why Stiles was so upset about his ex-partners, but the rest of his words made him feel utterly exposed and bare, like Stiles had looked at him and seen his very soul. Derek looked down at his hands and nodded briefly.

 

"Promise you'll ask me for things, for whatever _you_ want, please," Stiles said, reaching out and yet, still not touching him.

 

"I promise," Derek said, looking up at Stiles now.

 

The expression on his face wasn't as hard to decipher as before: Stiles simply looked relieved and happy.

 

"Can I hug you?" Stiles asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

 

Derek nodded. "I'd like that."

 

Stiles reached for Derek again, but didn't stop this time, and pulled him into a tight hug against his stomach. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist to hug him back and closed his eyes to breathe in his warm scent.

 

...

 

"C'mon, slowpoke, we can't get in the pool until the birthday boy's here!" Erica called, impatient in the heat outside. "Stop making out with Stiles already."

 

"We're not making out," Stiles called back, grinning through his lie. "Think they can wait another minute, babe?" he murmured, turning his attention back to Derek's hickey-littered neck.

 

Derek's head was lolled back, pleasure filling him as Stiles' lips kissed and licked and bit at his skin. "Mmm," he replied, agreeing to something, he was pretty sure.

 

"Ugh, gross. If you don't get down to the pool in a less than a minute, Erica will come up here instead of me. She _will_ drag you down there herself," Laura said, her hand clasped over her eyes so she wouldn't see her brother and Stiles.

 

Without waiting for a response, Laura turned around and uncovered her eyes before heading downstairs to the pool.

 

"Hmm, sounds serious. We should probably go down," Stiles said, pressing a light kiss to Derek's latest hickey.

 

"Okay," he replied dazedly, smiling up at Stiles.

 

Stiles grinned. "You look happy. Good," he said, taking Derek's hand to lead him down to the pool where their friends waited.

 

"Nice artwork," Erica said, winking at Stiles when she spied Derek's neck.

 

"Shut up and get in the pool, Catwoman," Stiles said, rolling his eyes, squeezing Derek's hand.

 

She just laughed, then ran and bombed into the pool's deep end, spraying everyone with water. More laughter and people bombed into the water.

 

"Want me to lather you up?" Stiles asked Derek, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he spied Lydia's SPF 50+ sunscreen.

 

Derek's neck and cheeks pinked, but he nodded bravely and let Stiles lead him over to the beach chairs where Lydia was sitting under an umbrella, ensuring she didn't get any skin in the harsh sun's light.

 

"You're not going in the pool?" Derek asked, nodding to where the others were playing in the water.

 

"Skin cancer is an ugly thing and, if I can help it, I don't do ugly," Lydia said, sipping at her drink and returning to her book, large sunglasses covering half of her face.

 

Stiles snorted, amused but not surprised, and sat Derek on the chair before taking up the bottle of sunscreen. "Tell me if you're not comfortable," he added, voice soft so Lydia wouldn't hear.

 

Derek nodded shyly. He could still feel the pleasant ache of the hickeys on his neck and he closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing as Stiles lathered his hands up with sunscreen, warming the cool liquid.

 

The first touch was a surprise, a small shock that had Derek shuddering violently.

 

"Sorry. Just a surprise," he added, realising that Stiles was ready to stop completely.

 

"Sure?" Stiles asked, receiving a nod of confirmation.

 

Stiles waited a moment, looking for tension or unease in Derek's face or body. Seeing none, he started to swipe long streaks of sunscreen across Derek's shoulders, down his arms, up his neck gently, over his red-tipped ears and cheeks, smoothing lines across his forehead, nose and chin. Stiles rubbed the lotion in carefully, making sure not to miss any spots - with Stiles' freckles and moles, Lydia wasn't the only one worried about cancer - before he stopped to get more sunscreen for the expanse of Derek's chest and his back. He was slower with these two areas, his fingers lingering and brushing against Derek's shoulder blades, his collar bone, his six-pack.

 

Derek was pretty sure this was what heaven felt like. Stiles caressing every part of him, soothing his muscles and leaving warmth in his wake. It almost felt as though Stiles was worshipping him, touching him reverently and lovingly, rubbing circles against his skin or long stroking motions that made goosebumps appear.

 

"Get a room!"

 

"We had one; you told us to come out here," Stiles called back, not sounding at all worried or upset or embarrassed by the teasing call. "Think you're done," he murmured, inspecting his handiwork and pleased to see Derek glistening with the layer of sunscreen he'd applied. Stiles saw that, for the second time that day, Derek looked dazed and just _happy_. He smiled at the sight and kissed Derek's lips, ignoring the taste of sunscreen. "Go on, in the pool with you. Try not to drown."

 

"You're not coming?" Derek asked, blinking away his dazed expression.

 

"Soon; I've got to get my own sunscreen on," Stiles said, even though he was covered from knee to neck.

 

"I can do it," Derek offered.

 

"I'm pretty sure that's the starting line of amateur porn," Lydia said wryly, looking at them over the top of her sunglasses.

 

"Shut up, Lyds," Stiles said, glaring.

 

She just raised an eyebrow, repositioned her sunglasses properly, and then turned her attention back to her book.

 

"Still want to?" Stiles asked Derek, the sunscreen in his hand.

 

He didn't offer it out to him, didn't presume or make an assumption. Despite this, Derek suddenly felt as though everyone was watching them - watching him. He knew it couldn't be true, because he could hear the others in the pool racing each other - Allison apparently beating Jackson by a hand's length - but he couldn't do it. He shook his head, wishing he was someone braver or calmer or anything else besides anxious and afraid right then.

 

"Hey, all good. You'll be able to get in the pool and have fun; I bet you can even out-swim Ally," Stiles called out in challenge, grinning.

 

He squeezed Derek's hand and nodded over to the pool where the others were calling out in response to the challenge, urging Derek to join them and see who would win the race. Laura called out about getting drinks, climbing out of the pool to head inside, her sarong wrapped around her body.

 

"Go on, big guy. Beat their asses," Stiles said, winking at him.

 

"You'll be in soon?" Derek asked.

 

"Be right there," Stiles said, kissing him once more before gently pushing Derek towards the pool.

 

"Five bucks on Derek," Erica crowed.

 

"No," Derek said sharply, surprising himself. "No gambling. Not with money," he added, reminded far too forcefully of Peter.

 

"All right," Erica said easily, as though the tension in the air wasn't there at all. "I bet my piece of cake that Derek's going to win."

 

"Betting with cake is just cruel," Isaac groaned.

 

"I'll take that bet," Danny called out.

 

"I'll bet my grandmother's stew recipe on Derek."

 

"Holy shit. Ally, you have to lose for everyone's sake!" Erica called out, her eyes wide.

 

"For a stew?" Allison asked, laughing.

 

"For _Grandma Boyd's_ stew, hell yes."

 

Scott looked torn between who to bet on - his best friend's boyfriend, or the girl he desperately wanted to woo - then finally made a decision. "I bet Ally's going to win. Half an hour with the puppies and kittens," he added.

 

"Aw, Derek, you'll lose for that, won't you?" Isaac asked, eyes big and wide.

 

Derek snorted. "You get to play with the puppies and kittens already, Isaac."

 

"That's not the point!"

 

Derek shook his head and slipped into the water, looking over to where Stiles was still diligently applying sunscreen to his arms and legs and face. He looked even whiter than Lydia did, and seemed determined to cover every inch of bare skin and then some.

 

"Ready?" Allison asked, grinning.

 

"Get set!" Jackson called, watching from the sidelines.

 

"GO!" everyone yelled.

 

Derek pushed off from the wall almost lazily, his longer arm strokes propelling him through the water easily. Allison didn't have his reach, but she did have a firm stroke and propulsion, and she was soon beside him. Derek breathed as his arm moved to enter the water again, and put on a small burst of speed. Not a lot, but enough to make him be out in front again. He swam in this pool as often as he possibly could, sometimes twice a day if the weather was nice enough, and Derek knew every tile like the back of his own hand. He knew exactly when to turn, when to breathe and tuck and roll into a backward flip, pushing off the tiled edge again.

 

Derek was weightless and enveloped in the water, where nothing could touch him or hurt him; put simply, he was effortless in the water and it showed in every certain stroke and movement of his body.

 

Derek was vaguely aware of Allison beside him; she was like a bullet, straight and fierce in the water, determined on winning and reaching their destination first. In the last few metres, Derek made a decision. He didn't slow down completely, but he faltered on a stroke, and that was all that Allison needed to overtake him. She hit the edge a second before Derek did and popped up from the water, grinning broadly as their friends cheered her on loudly.

 

"The stew recipe! Goddamn you, Ally," Erica groaned, burying her head into Boyd's shoulder.

 

Derek rested half in, half out of the water, watching the interactions of his friends and the bets being claimed. He looked over to where Lydia was reading her book, only to see that Stiles wasn't there. Derek looked across the pool to the French doors that led into his home, but couldn't see Stiles - _or Laura_ , he belatedly realised, remembering her going inside for drinks.

 

"Derek? What's wrong?" Allison asked, alert in a moment, despite the tiny bikini she wore.

 

"Stiles isn't with Lydia anymore, and Laura hasn't come back either," he said, trying to stay calm, even as he climbed out of the pool and headed towards the doors at a light job.

 

Allison was after him in a moment, coming up beside him, armed with a weapon she'd taken from God knew where, and she looked inside. "Clear."

 

Derek didn't care if it was clear or not. He couldn't see Laura or Stiles from where he was standing, and there was a tray of drinks sitting on the bench top, condensation gathering around their bases.

 

"Laura," Allison breathed, rushing over to Derek's sister, who was lying behind the kitchen island. She was unconscious, bruised, and gagged.

 

Derek headed inside immediately, his eyes wide at the sight of his sister hurt, and then he saw a note propped up on the counter beside the drinks. It was written in Stiles' handwriting.

 

_Dearest dove,_

_Heading out for some blondies._

_Have taken some cash, should be about 5-8._

_Your present's in Roscoe._

_Stiles_

 

Beside his name was a few spots of blood.

 

Derek stared at the note as Allison coaxed Laura awake gently and carefully, checking her for a concussion. By this time, their friends had realised something was wrong and were all crowded at the doors, curious and confused.

 

Derek couldn't stop looking at the word 'dove' on Stiles' note and he was physically trembling when he turned to look at Allison a moment later. "Someone's taken Stiles."


End file.
